


Blood of the Dragon

by LittleMissTwinkleToes



Series: The Dragonborn Chronicles [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Complicated love life, Dragonborn DLC, F/M, It's not an easy life for the Dragonborn, Mercer is a jerk, Novelization, Original Character(s), Romance isn't easy in Tamriel, Running from the law, Skyrim Main Quest, Thieves Guild Questline, Troubles with daedra, Troubles with the Thalmor, original blades characters, original dark brotherhood character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23072152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissTwinkleToes/pseuds/LittleMissTwinkleToes
Summary: After the ransacking of Cloud Ruler Temple and the loss of her last family member, Ildri finds herself on the run from the Thalmor, leaving her ancestral home in Bruma and landing up in Riften where she meets the charismatic and handsome Brynjolf. The master thief introduces Ildri to the exciting and dark life of the Thieves Guild where she is offered a new life and a new family. Her destiny won't leave her in peace and happiness for long and soon thrusts her into a war she is ill-prepared for.  Follow Ildri as she discovers what it means to be Dragonborn and seeks to save a country she barely knows from the threat of the World-Eater before Skyrim can tear itself apart.
Relationships: Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Series: The Dragonborn Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025220
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Elder Scrolls. If you enjoy this story, please leave kudos and a comment! Don't forget to bookmark it if you want to catch the updates.  
> Enjoy!!

Chapter 1

The city of Bruma was quiet and the air was crisp with the coming winter chill. The morning was still gray, mist clung to ground, not ready to join the sky. Clouds hung in the air, heavy with the snow that would most likely fall later in the day.

  
Ildri breathed in, the cold air stinging her lungs, before she exhaled in a puff of vapor that climbed upwards. She stood on the stoop of the home her family had owned for generations, looking over the town. The house was situated right by the southern gate and had a view of the ruins of the once proud Temple of Talos. That had been one of the first things destroyed when the Thalmor swooped down upon the land during the Great War. It wasn’t the only scar Bruma had.

  
Once the emperor signed the White Gold Concordat to end the war 25 years ago, the Thalmor started ridding the world of Talos worship. Bruma was the first to suffer, having been the only city in Cyrodil with a temple devoted to Talos. People were taken away in the dozens and never heard from again. Houses were destroyed, leaving scorched wounds on the ground where they had stood. And those were only the newest ones.

  
About 200 years ago, Bruma was on the brink of destruction. They were next in line to be destroyed after Kvatch had been overrun with daedra during the Oblivion Crisis. It was only stopped by the might and determination of one woman, though the Thalmor would have everyone believe they were the ones behind closing the Oblivion Gates. The Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodil had mustered a force of guards and fighters from every city in Cyrodil to quell the invasion. Everyone in Bruma knew about her, often spoke of her reverently in whispers behind closed doors.

  
Her name was Axelia with the given name Firesteel for the terrifying enchanted sword she wielded, called _Dragonfang_. She was a young Nord spellsword who came from Skyrim hoping to start a new life. Instead, she was handed the responsibility of saving a land she barely knew. She became a Blade, assisted the heir to the throne, and closed Oblivion gates around the land. After she stopped Mehrunes Dagon – the Daedric Prince of Destruction – when he invaded the Imperial City, she moved to Bruma hoping to settle down. She was active in the Bruma Mage’s Guild chapter and even had a child of her own, with one of her blade brothers. She’d actually lived in the same house that Ildri and her family called home. But that was where the similarities ended.

  
Ildri was no “Hero of Kvatch” or “Champion of Cyrodil.” She was just plain old Ildri. Despite her parents’ wishes she had a knack for the bow, as well as remaining unseen, getting through locked doors, and a silver tongue when it came to getting out of trouble. Still, she was just as far from ever being the noble lady her parents hoped for as she was from being the legendary Axelia. Her father – a Nord named Erling – was a warrior and had fought in the Great War before Ildri was born with his older brothers, Magnus and Baldur. Both of her uncles died during the war along with her two cousins, Alrik and Astrid. The war reduced her family to just her father, her mother, and her older brother, then three years after the deaths of her uncles and cousins, she was born.

  
Her father taught her fighting with one-handed weapons and smithing for years up at the temple on the top of the mountain to the north of Bruma -- until he disappeared ten years ago. He’d gone hunting one morning and just… never returned. Her mother believed him dead and mourned, but there was never any closure and somehow, Ildri knew the Thalmor were behind it. After that, her brother --Soren -- became the commander of the forces up at the temple and continued training her. Ildri of course wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that the temple was actually there. Somehow, the building remained a secret to those who lived just below it.

  
Her mother – a Breton named Aislin – was a member of the mages guild here in Bruma and had trained Ildri in the art of destruction magic and enchanting. She’d died four years ago on an assignment from the guild, and since then Ildri wanted nothing to do with the Mages’ Guild. When her mother’s guild siblings had returned without her, they’d said they were attacked – by the Thalmor. For some reason, they suspected the group of mages – Aislin especially – of violating the White Gold Concordat. When her mother put up a fight, they’d killed her and her so called “siblings” hadn’t helped.

  
Ildri sighed sadly, angrily, thoughts returning to that dark, bleak place. The Thalmor were a black plague of arrogant High Elves who believed their way was the only way, and all who opposed them were to be destroyed. Ildri hated them, like her family had, like most of Bruma did, like all Nords do. What she wanted more than anything was a chance for revenge. But how could she get revenge against the whole Aldmeri Dominion, when even the might of the Empire wasn’t enough to face them?

  
Shaking her head, Ildri forced those thoughts to that black place deep inside her and locked them away. They weren’t useful thoughts, and Ildri had training to do.

  
Over the years, Ildri had devised an obstacle course around Bruma in order to train her speed and agility. Her father hadn’t thought those talents were necessary; after all, a warrior used brute strength to beat his enemy, not devious tactics like speed. Warriors didn’t stab in the back. Ildri didn’t either, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough to go toe to toe with most fighters, so she had to come up with other ways to beat her opponents. Her speed allowed her to move fast enough so that she wasn’t even there for the blow to land.

  
Her brother -- thankfully -- did not share their father’s distaste for her “less than honorable” tactics. He saw them as useful tools in her arsenal. “Whatever it took to win a fight,” he would say. He’d told her once that if he was her size, he’d employ the same practice in fighting. But he wasn’t. Soren was almost six and a half feet tall, tall even for a Nord, and burly too. He fought with brute strength behind a swordsman’s finesse. Ildri was a foot shorter than her brother and much slighter. Soren knew that and understood her need for different tactics.

  
Ildri inhaled, arms raised above her head as she stretched, readying for her work out. With this cold weather, stretching was vital or she’d pull a muscle. She worked meticulously on each muscle, feeling the tension and holding for a few seconds before releasing. Her blood was flowing, body warmed up and she looked to the sky to observe the position of the sun. A while back, she’d begun to time herself, to up the intensity of her training. The sun was barely above the tops of the Jerall Mountains, so it was still a little early in the day. Some of the Bruma citizens had left their homes, heading to wherever they worked or spent their days. It was time for Ildri to begin her run.  
First she made sure her dark hair was all woven into her long braid then she leapt off her stoop and sprinted left, to the west of the town. She passed the southern gate, ignoring the guards who rolled their eyes and continued down the road between the ruined temple and the tavern. The houses were a blur as she sprinted by and Ildri only paused once she reached the end of the avenue to leap toward the last house. Her hand contacted with the sill of a window and her fingers flexed to grasp the old wood. She threw her other hand up and began to climb quickly, feet scrabbling against the wood to propel her up to the roof.

  
Breathless, she heaved her body onto the roof of the house, but didn’t take a second to have a break. Immediately, she sprinted toward the wall of Bruma and leapt the distance between the house and the defensive wall. The house was the closest to the wall in all of Bruma, but it was still a pretty sizeable leap. Her hands latched onto the stone of the wall immediately upon contact. Booted feet scrabbled against limestone as she hauled herself on top of the wall.

  
With her feet firmly planted on top of the stone, Ildri took a moment to catch her breath, as she always did. That part of the exercise was especially grueling, and she was usually out of breath once she made it here.

  
As she stood up straight once again, preparing to continue with the obstacle course, she looked to the west, where a road wound around the small city. A group of travelers caught her eye before she could set off again. Normally, travelers wouldn’t bother her, but these were different. First of all, they were all elves – Altmer by the look of them. Ildri could tell by the gleaming golden armor several of them wore with matching shades of golden skin and hair. There were a couple in darker robes leading the group. Those robes were Thalmor, high ranking to be precise. And they were headed up the mountain on the path to the last Blade Temple in all of Cyrodil.

  
Panic seized Ildri’s insides. It was a known fact the Thalmor had taken it upon themselves to wipe out the entirety of the Blades. The reason? Because the Blades were ordered to be disbanded as per the Concordat. The Blades also represented the empire of old and freedom. The former guards of the Septim line believed every citizen in the Empire had the right to choose; how they lived, who they worshipped. The Thalmor wanted to control pretty much every aspect of everyone’s lives. If those elves were indeed Thalmor agents like Ildri believed, then they discovered Cloud Ruler Temple.

  
Quickly, Ildri looked for a place to jump off the wall, outside the city, so she could try to race the elves up the mountain and warn the few Blades left up there. If the Thalmor made it to the temple before she did, they’d all be wiped out. Even her brother, who was the grand master of the ancient order, wouldn’t stand a chance against so many trained Altmer.

  
A little way up the wall, a tree stood, its branches reaching across the stone and offering a route out of the city. Immediately, Ildri sprinted toward it, leaping toward the trunk of the tree, right hand flying out to grasp the branch. The force wrenched her arm painfully, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. As fast as possible, she picked her way down the tree and dropped to the ground a few seconds later. Once her feet hit the ground, she set off running.

  
The Thalmor were a ways up the road, well ahead of her. Ildri would have to run straight up the mountain to beat them, and even then it would be close. Sure, her route would be way straighter than theirs, but hers was much steeper. Hopefully, they’d get slowed down by a wolf or frost troll or some other monster that wandered these woods. And hopefully, she wouldn’t run into any.

  
After a few minutes of running, she came upon a steep rock face. Taking a running jump, practiced hands grabbed onto the rock, finding the hand holds and foot holds quickly. She scrambled up the cliff face, huffing out her breaths. Once she reached the top, she had to take a second to catch her breath, but only a second. The path ahead of her was steep, wooded, and covered in a blanket of snow that had fallen the night before. All of that would slow her down.

  
Finally, she made it to the top and had to follow the trail the rest of the way, avoiding the solid face of slick, icy, jagged rock. Snow had started falling lightly as she made her way up the mountain, increasing the snow on the ground from an inch to several inches. She couldn’t hear the elves, but their footprints led up the snowy path. Cursing quietly to herself, Ildri set off up the path after them. Her straight route up the mountain had taken longer than she’d hoped.

  
It was all Ildri could do to keep her breathing under control. The cold air stung her lungs, making it much harder to breathe, but after a few long minutes of running, she was almost to the gates of Cloud Ruler Temple. She could hear noises coming from inside, the clang of metal on metal, shouts, screams from the horses. As she approached, the chaos was more apparent. The huge gates had been blasted inwards, the wood charred and splintered. A few of the Blades who had been down at the gate were lying still on the stone stairs. Ildri couldn’t look too close to see who they were, just the sight of them like that was similar to having an arrow pierce her lungs. At the top of the stairs, the Blades had engaged the Thalmor, most fighting with swords and battle axes while Cloud Ruler Temple burned around them. One of the Thalmor in the robes stood back from the battle, shooting spells at the Blades. But where was the other one? Ildri had seen two robed Thalmor agents, not one.

  
Reaching to her back for her bow and arrows, Ildri cursed to herself when she remembered they were sitting by the door of her family’s home. She was lucky she always trained in her leathers, so she at least had some protection from weapons and spells.

  
A quick look around again confirmed there was only one robed Thalmor agent, but her brother wasn’t part of the battle outside either. He must have been inside when all the chaos erupted. And that must be where the last robed Thalmor agent was.

  
Immediately, Ildri sprinted through the fighting, dodging blades and spells. She made it to the doors miraculously without any serious injuries. She’d gotten side-swiped by a passing sword on her right leg and burned by a spell that had clipped her left shoulder. With a shove, the doors opened and she was inside.

  
The scene inside the great hall wasn’t much better than the one in the courtyard. A few elves had followed the last Thalmor agent inside and had engaged the remaining Blades, while her brother faced off with the last agent. He was wielding his sword, which was enchanted to erupt in flames and burn the enemy, but the High Elf somehow kept dodging the attacks. One fiery spell passed too close to Soren and Ildri sprang to action. She ran through the battle, dodging fights in the hopes to make it to her brother’s side, fireballs at the ready in both her hands.

  
“GET AWAY FROM HIM!!” She screamed, launching one of her spells at the offending agent. Her first spell staggered her opponent but the elf was alerted to her presence and threw up a ward. A snarl curled the elf’s lips away from her teeth, golden eyes going from Ildri to her brother and back again.

  
“Well this is hardly a fair fight, Soren. What happened to that honor you Nords boast about?” She taunted.

  
“You Thalmor don’t fight fair. Just figured you wouldn’t mind us playing by your rules,” Ildri growled. “And how the hell do you know who we are?”

  
“None of that matters!” Soren snapped, lifting his sword and engaging the Thalmor agent once again. “Stand back, Ildri!!” he commanded, and begrudgingly, Ildri obeyed. Soren and the agent locked blades and a battle of strength ensued. It really wasn’t much of a contest. Soren had been training with swords his whole life and built a strong body over the forge. Lifting a leg, he planted it firmly on the elf’s stomach and kicked as hard as he could. The agent was forcefully shoved back into a bookshelf, cracking her head on the solid wood and crumpling to the ground. But Soren did not strike the killing blow. Instead, he moved to Ildri quickly and steered her out of the great hall.

  
“What… Soren?” she asked, confused. Why had he not killed the agent? Why weren’t they going to help the fight? Her brother didn’t reply, only led her down a dark hallway to a set of stairs that opened up into the kitchens. He moved to the back wall, where an unassuming cupboard sat. Quickly, Soren opened the doors, pressed a lever and the back slid away to reveal a tunnel.

  
He turned back around, grey eyes sad underneath his dark bushy brows. “You need to go, Ildri,” he stated, voice uneven. Then he took the sword and scabbard off his belt and held it up to her. “Take this and go. Now.”

  
Now, it was Ildri’s turn to widen her grey eyes. She glanced from her brother, to the tunnel, to the sword in his hands, and back, shaking her head. “I won’t leave you to fight alone, especially without a blade! Soren, we can beat them back!”

  
He shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes. Ildri had only ever seen her brother cry once before, and that was when they found out their mother had been killed. “It is vital that you survive, Ildri. They know where we are now and they will just keep coming. You are not safe anymore, and as your brother and commander of the Blades, I need to make sure you remain safe.” He grabbed her hand and roughly shoved the sword into it. “You are the last and more important now than any of us. Take _Dragonfang_ and get the hell away from here!”

  
“Wait… _Dragonfang_?” Ildri asked, looking down at the sword in surprise. _Dragonfang_ was the legendary sword of the Hero of Kvatch, the Champion of Cyrodil. But she didn’t have much time to consider why her brother had this blade, other than the woman who made it had been a blade sister of this very temple. Soren put his hand between her shoulder blades and steered her toward the opening in the stone walls. “But Soren!”

  
“That blade was created to guard our bloodline and has for generations, Ildri. It will keep you safe. Take the Pale Pass into Skyrim, and start a new life. I love you very much. Now, go!” he commanded, shoving her through the doorway. By the time Ildri had gained her footing, her brother had closed the opening.

  
“SOREN!” She screamed, pounding on the wood. She could hear him shouting on the other side, then the sound of combat. The Thalmor must have found him and she couldn’t help! Suddenly, it was quiet, save for a thump on the ground. “Soren?” she asked through the wood, quietly, hoping it was the elf that fell and not her brother.  
The doors to the cupboard creaked open and Ildri took a step back. Then another. She could hear hands working their way across the back panel. It slid open once again, letting in the light from the kitchens, but it wasn’t her father standing there. It was the elf. Soren’s body lay a few feet behind the figure in the doorway, dark hair fanned about his head, which was turned away from her.

  
Ildri screamed, despair claiming her heart. She summoned her strongest fireball spell she knew and launched it at the elf. The explosion was so powerful it knocked Ildri back, but she couldn’t stay down long. She had to honor her brother’s last wish, even though it killed her to leave his side. She turned and ran down the tunnel, not looking back to see the damage she’d done.

**

  
It was another sunny day in Riften and Brynolf stood in the marketplace, eyeing the various travelers and townspeople who meandered among the market stalls. Madesei, the Argonian jeweler, was selling a sparkly little bauble to a man interested in buying a trinket for his wife. Across the way, Grelka, a bad tempered Nord, shouted about her armor being the best money can buy. A strong claim, since Balimund worked the forge just outside the marketplace. Brand-shei, the dark elf who ran a stall for just about anything, rounded out the shopkeepers of the marketplace.

  
But Brynjolf used his stall for more than just selling useless trinkets and potions. He studied the people who came and went about the marketplace looking for prospective marks or – more rarely – an interesting individual with a very particular skill set. Today was like most days, he assumed, since he hadn’t found anyone remotely interesting, but had conned a few gullible travelers out of good coin.

  
That was the case until the sun was starting to set, when the market place was beginning to slow down. A young woman, looking to be in her early twenties, made her way slowly into the marketplace. Her grey eyes never stopped studying her surroundings and her hand never left the pommel of her sword, even as she traded with Brand-shei. The pack she carried was heavy with wares that she was trying to sell to the dark elf, who was attempting to give her a low price. Irritation furrowed her dark eyebrows, but she took the offered price and dumped the contents of the bag on the counter. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion under her leather armor, but she seemed relieved to have gotten rid of the heavy burden. While, the merchant was busy looking through her wares, the lass swiped something from the counter and pocketed it. Anyone would have missed the movement, but Brynjolf knew what to look for and smiled to himself. Then, the young woman thanked Brand-shei, putting the meager coins from the sale of her wares in her pocket.

  
As she walked by, Brynjolf could see just how truly tired she was. Dark circles lay beneath round, red, and puffy eyes, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her cheeks seemed a little gaunt and were smudged with dirt. Her shoulders weren’t only sagging, but her body looked like it was folding in on itself, like she was trying to curl into a protective ball. Booted feet dragged along the stone, but even so, her footsteps were light. There was something about the way she carried herself, even while exhausted. There was a light in her eyes that Brynjolf hadn’t seen in a long time. He needed to know more about this girl.

  
“Evening, lass,” he said pleasantly, taking a step away from his stall. Her grey eyes immediately snapped to look at him, instantly wary.

  
“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked quietly, taking a small step back, but not taking her eyes off him.

  
“You look tired, and hungry. How about I treat you to a meal and a pint over there at the Bee and Barb?” Brynjolf offered, trying to lay on the charm. Her gaze became suspicious almost immediately and she frowned. Strange, most people who looked as world weary as she did would take the offer quickly.

  
“That’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t,” she replied, taking a step past him and toward the Inn he had just mentioned.

  
Brynjolf followed, slowly to keep from causing alarm, “why ever not, lass? You look like you could use the help. How far have you traveled?”

  
Her frown deepened, pulling her full lips into a thin line, “I’ve travelled far, but I’m not looking for company. Thank you.” She hastened her step, and Brynjolf let her go. He didn’t want to frighten the poor girl and besides, he’d have a chance to try again later.

  
Scratching his head of red hair, he turned back to his market stall. There was something about that girl, something different than what he’d seen before. She seemed intelligent at the least, since she didn’t take the bait. Either that or she’d gone through something terrible that made her suspicious. Or maybe it was both?

  
“Wow, Brynjolf. No luck with the ladies, huh?” Brand-shei remarked, a smirk curling his dark lips.

  
“Very funny, Brand-shei,” he replied, annoyed. Sighing, he set about closing his stall. A pint from the Bee and Barb sounded quite nice right about now.

**

  
Ildri had made it through the Pale Pass tired, hungry, and bereaved. It had taken her almost a week to get through the system of caves connecting Skyrim to Cyrodil, but at least she’d crossed the border without running into the Thalmor or any Imperial soldiers. Crossing anywhere else and she would have. Either way, the passing was difficult. She couldn’t decide if frost trolls, ice wolves, and snow bears were worse than Imperial soldiers or Thalmor agents, but at least the Thalmor didn’t actually know where she was.

  
From the Pale Pass, it had taken a full day to get to the nearest town. Her pack was full of alchemy ingredients, various ingots and gems, and of course, weapons and armor she’d scavenged from the poor souls who hadn’t made it through. She’d gotten a measly 200 gold for her troubles, but it was at least enough for a meal and a room for a night before she figured out what her next move was. Besides, the ring she swiped from the merchant’s stall would fetch a pretty penny, too, if she could find a fence to sell it to. This was the first time she had stolen something without the intention of giving it back, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying. But, if these merchants made a habit of low-balling her, then she would simply make a habit of stealing from them. That sounded fair.

  
She hadn’t been sitting long before a plate of food and a pint of mead were put in front of her and she gratefully dug in. It was simple roasted hare and boiled vegetables, but real food was better than eating scraps of half-starved wolf meat, that was for sure.

  
As she ate, her thoughts drifted to that red headed Nord dressed in understated formal attire who’d tried to help her in the marketplace. Maybe she had been unkind to refuse him, but after all she’d been through? It was natural that she was suspicious. He could be a Thalmor spy or something. At the same time though, how many true Nords of Skyrim would support the Thalmor? Not many, she guessed, if the population of Bruma was anything to go by. But was that red headed man a true Nord of Skyrim?

  
While she was pondering the red headed Nord, someone took the seat across from her. When she looked up, it was not the man she had been thinking about, but another, dressed in finery. He had a hooked nose over thin smirking lips. A dark spindly goatee framed a thin chin. This one had an air of superiority about him, like the people around him were not much more than dirt. The smile he aimed her way didn’t reach his green eyes, which were calculating and… rather hungry-looking and decidedly not as friendly as the green eyes from the nord who had offered to buy her dinner earlier. “Well, I’ve never seen your pretty face around here before. I’m Hemming Black-Briar, oldest son and heir to Maven Black-Briar,” he said, offering his hand out to shake. His voice was slimy sounding, and not in the ‘dirty bandit living in a cave’ kind of way but in the ‘my shit doesn’t stink, bow down to me’ kind of way.

  
Ildri offered her own insincere smile, not taking the proffered hand. “That’s nice,” she replied before taking a sip of mead from her tankard and lowering her gaze back down to her meal.

  
Hemming laughed lightly, in disbelief it sounded, but he seemed far from giving up, much to Ildri’s chagrin. “I’m afraid when someone introduces themselves, one must reciprocate.”

  
She looked back up at the man sitting before her, annoyance curling her lips into a frown. “Not necessarily. It’s polite, but I don’t much feel like being polite. Actually, I’d rather just eat my meal in silence, if you don’t mind,” she answered, taking a bite of boiled carrot, completely unimpressed with the man before her.

  
“Oh come now, surely a woman like you could only hope to be with someone like me,” he simpered. Ildri just about gagged.

  
“I believe the lass isn’t interested, Hemming. You best try your luck elsewhere,” came a brogue Ildri had only just become familiar with. She didn’t look up at her savior but watched with smug satisfaction as Hemming’s brown eyes narrowed angrily at the both of them, a sneer curling his lips and making his nose more hooked, before he snapped out of his chair.

  
“You’ll regret this, Brynjolf,” he growled before stomping out of the inn. The other man didn’t seem fazed by the outburst in the least, simply scratched the full red goatee around his sculpted chin.

  
To Ildri’s surprise, the man didn’t take the now vacant seat, but turned away about to head toward the bar. “Wait,” she called, finally looking up at the red headed Nord who seemed so keen on helping her. “I don’t actually mind if you sit.”

  
Now, it was her savior’s turn to look surprised, red eyebrows lifting and creating a series of wrinkles in his forehead, but he nodded with an ‘alright, lass,’ and took the seat opposite her. He watched her quizzically, hooded green eyes searching for something, but didn’t say anything. If he was pleased with this turn of events, he didn’t show any sign of it.

  
“Thank you, for getting rid of that guy,” Ildri started, to which he replied with a nod. “I’m not sure he would have gotten the message short of having mead thrown in his face, and that’s such a waste of good mead.”

  
This time, he laughed, his lips spreading into his cheeks in a broad smile. The movement made the scar stretching down his left cheek whiten as it pulled. Ildri found she quite liked the sound of his laugh and the way his skin crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. “Right you are, lass,” he replied.

  
Ildri smiled, her first real smile since before she’d left Bruma. It felt foreign on her face. “I’m sorry for being so short with you earlier, it’s just… Well, how about we start over? I’m Ildri,” she said, offering her hand.

  
He took it, his large hand enveloping hers in a warm handshake. “I’m Brynjolf. It’s nice to meet you, lass.” He was quiet for a bit, letting her eat her meal in silence, but he seemed like he was studying her and trying to be discreet about it.

  
She cleared her throat after swallowing a bite of hare before saying, “so I’m new to the area, and I don’t actually know quite where I am, apart from being in Skyrim.”

  
“You stumbled upon Riften, home of the Black-Briar Meadery and the Temple of Mara. We’re known for our fishing industry and warm weather – for Skyrim, that is,” Brynolf replied lightly, small smile playing on his lips.

  
Ildri smiled back, wrinkling her nose. “Yeah I could smell the fish way before I could see the town walls,” she quipped.

  
“You get used to it after a while. Are you planning to stay in town, lass?” he inquired and Ildri had to think about it. She wasn’t 100% sure staying so close to the border of Cyrodil was the best idea, but she was already so tired of wandering and Riften didn’t seem so bad. She could stay for a little while anyway, get her feet under her, and then move on if she needed to.

  
“I might, for a little while at least,” Ildri answered, taking a sip of her mead.

  
A smile curved his lips at the statement. “I’m glad to hear it, lass. Riften needs more talent.”

  
“Talent?” Ildri asked, perplexed. She had talent? And he saw it?

  
“Sure, lass. I’m usually pretty good at reading people. You have greatness in you, just beneath the surface and ready to be unleashed,” he replied, casually. Ildri couldn’t respond, words failing her. How could he know that just by looking at her?

  
She cleared her throat after a minute of quiet before asking, “so, since I might be staying a little longer, I’m going to need a way to work.” She paused before continuing, noting the very interested gleam in his eyes. “Is there a blacksmith in town? I thought I saw one outside the marketplace, but I wasn’t sure they’d be hiring assistants.”

  
Now, Brynjolf’s eyes held interest and surprise. “You’re interested in smithing?”

  
Ildri shrugged. “Well, I’ve been learning the craft since I was young. It was always something I felt I could fall back on if I ever….” She trailed off, frown turning the corners of her lips down. Sure, she maybe had dreamed of traveling when she lived in Bruma, eager to see the world outside of that sleepy city. But she never wanted to travel like this, on the run and looking over her shoulder, never able to return home – not that there was anything to return to.

  
“I’m sure good old Balimund wouldn’t mind the help around his forge,” he answered, and Ildri focused back on him. He seemed more thoughtful now, studying her very intently. “I tell you what, lass. If you find you’re not making enough gold at the forge, come see me in the marketplace. I may have something you can do.”

  
The next morning, Ildri woke and departed the Bee and Barb. Dinner with Brynjolf had been interesting and they had talked for a while longer after he offered to give her a job if the blacksmith didn’t work out. She’d rented a room from Keerava, the inn-keeper, for the next few days. She’d made sure to have a tub of water brought to her room to bathe the week’s worth of grime off and slept soundly through the night, utterly exhausted from her journey. Today, she was headed to the blacksmith to see if he’d hire her as an assistant for a little while. She could probably make good money at least, before she moved on.

  
It was still early in the morning, so the merchants in the market were just starting to set up their stalls. She nodded at Brynjolf as she passed by on her way to the blacksmith. The clanking of the hammer on heated metal could be heard throughout the market and Ildri followed her ears to the source of the sound.

  
It was an open-air forge, which Ildri appreciated immensely. It could get unbearably hot when the forge was inside. Balimund – she remembered that’s what Brynjolf had called the blacksmith the night before – was bent over his anvil, shaping metal for what looked like a sword. He was burly with shoulder length dirty blond hair and a thick mustache.

  
“What can I do for you?” he asked without raising his head from the hammer and anvil.

  
“Uh, I’m Ildri and I was wondering if you needed help at the forge? I have training so you wouldn’t need to worry too much about that…” she started.

  
“Well… I already have an assistant, but we both could use the extra help around the forge. The guards have requested a large number of weapons and we need help sharpening them all,” the smith answered before indicating the pile of swords and axes. “You can find ingots stacked under the armor bench and the grindstone is just there. I’ll pay you based on quality, deal?”

  
Ildri nodded and smiled with a polite, “of course, thank you,” before setting to work sharpening the weapons. She spent most of the day sharpening the blades, taking one break for a quick lunch. Balimund came by the grindstone every now and then to see her progress, usually giving her comments on where the metal needed a bit more work, but otherwise, he seemed impressed. By sundown, the smith was ready to close up shop, and Ildri set about cleaning her work area.

  
“You’ve done some fine work today, lass. You must have had an excellent teacher,” he remarked. Ildri only nodded in reply to the statement, not trusting her voice to stay steady with an answer. Her father followed by her brother had taught her the art of smithing. Thinking of Soren was still very difficult, a lump always formed in her throat.  
Balimund pulled together a couple hundred gold coins, held in a drawstring coin purse and handed them to her. “We could use your help again tomorrow. There’s still weapons to sharpen and we got that work order to repair some armor.”

  
Ildri nodded again and cleared her throat before saying, “yes, thank you for the opportunity. I would be glad to help again tomorrow.” With that, she headed back to the Bee and Barb for dinner and a pint. Brynjolf joined her at the edge of the marketplace, walking with her to the inn.

  
“How was your day, lass? I hope Balimund didn’t work you too hard,” the nord said light-heartedly.

  
“It was good to work with metal again, familiar. And I mostly sharpened blades, anyway, nothing too strenuous,” Ildri replied, amiably, climbing the stairs to the door of the Bee and Barb. Brynjolf opened the door and held it for her. “Thank you,” she said as she stepped inside.

  
“No problem, lass. And would you like some company for dinner?” he inquired and Ildri felt her smile grow. That was the second time he’d asked to eat with her and not simply assumed she wanted him around. And, when he was with her, she found other men stayed away (after the whole Hemming incident, of course).

  
“That would be nice, Brynjolf. I did enjoy your banter last night,” she said, finding a table and taking a seat, her companion claiming the seat across from her. “You’re quite useful at driving away annoying men, as well. I figured if I simply start out with you sitting with me, I won’t have to suffer through another awkward encounter with Hemming.”  
Brynjolf chuckled, green eyes twinkling. “So, I’m to be used to keep the beasts at bay. I don’t mind, after all I get mead and good company!”

  
Taking a seat after ordering their dinners at the counter with Keerava – who gave Brynjolf the strangest look when she took his order – Ildri leaned back in her chair and felt the soreness of her muscles. She let out a groan when she leaned back into the seat and stretched her arms above her head. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Brynjolf watching her movements, though trying not to be obvious about it.

  
He cleared his throat a moment later and stated, “so, lass, where are you from? We didn’t talk much about you yesterday.”

  
Ildri froze but recovered quickly. She didn’t want this man to become suspicious of her and alert someone who could tell the Thalmor where she was. “Uh… I’m from… High Rock, actually. Um, I passed through Cyrodil to get to Skyrim.” Luckily, she had some Breton features, else her High Rock ruse would not have worked.

  
“Ah, never been to the region myself, but I hear High Rock is beautiful,” Brynjolf answered, seeming to accept her answer. “In all honestly, I’ve never travelled outside Skyrim. Born and raised here.”

  
Ildri nodded. “When I was younger, I dreamed of travelling the world, but now that I am… I don’t know, I miss home.”

  
“Aye, I know what you mean lass,” he replied, hand rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully before studying her again for several minutes. After a little while, both digging into their dinner that had been brought to them, Brynjolf asked, “do you ever wish to return?”

  
Ildri paused, spoon stilled halfway to her mouth. Her truthful answer was a resounding yes, but everything that made Bruma home was gone. There was nothing for her there. She sighed, lowering her spoon back into her stew. “No, I won’t go back there,” she answered.

  
Brynjolf gave her a sympathetic look before lowering his gaze to his own stew. Quietly, he offered, “well, maybe you can find yourself a new home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynjolf sends Vex with Ildri on errand, both to keep the young nord safe as well as judge whether she is worthy of the Guild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 2! Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos. Bookmark if you want to keep up with chapter updates!  
> Reminder, I do not own the Elder Scrolls. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Three days passed and Ildri found she’d fallen into a bit of a routine. Wake up, eat breakfast at the Bee and Barb, head out to the forge and work the whole day, then end the day at the Bee and Barb for dinner. Brynjolf usually ate with her, but last night, a man named Rune joined them at the table.

“Bryn!” he exclaimed, walking over to their table at the Bee and Barb. He stopped when he reached them, eyes seeing Ildri for the first time. He was an Imperial, with shoulder length brown hair and light brown eyes. A large nose was situated above thin lips and stubble adorned his jaw. His features weren’t as chisled as Brynjolf’s, but slightly more refined, as Imperial features tended to be.

“Hey, Rune,” Brynjolf replied, leaning back in his chair. Rune did not reply, gaze going from Ildri to Brynjolf and back. “Oh, this is Ildri, she’s new to town. Ildri, this is Rune, he’s an associate of mine.”

Ildri smiled at the Imperial and offered her hand to shake, “good to meet you.”

Rune returned the smile and clasped her hand, giving it a light but firm introductory shake. “Likewise. You planning on staying in town?” he inquired.

“Well, I do like what I’ve seen so far,” she answered, noting Brynjolf’s sparked interest in the question. “I’ve felt very welcomed here, but I don’t plan on staying here at the inn for too long.” Staying at the inn every night and paying a nightly fee was expensive.

Rune nodded, saying, “well, I hope to see more of you around, Ildri.” Then he turned back to Brynjolf, “so, there was something I had to ask you, but it’s business related. I wasn’t aware you were busy, so I can find you later.”

“Aye, lad, that would be fine,” Brynjolf replied and with that, Rune took his leave, wishing Ildri goodbye.

On her second full day in Riften, Ildri had made sure to purchase clothes and other important sundries. She had escaped Bruma with nothing but what she had on her. Those clothes – and her leather armor – desperately needed a good wash after a week and a half of wearing the same thing. She was able to wash those poor items last night and hung them to dry in her window. Her undergarments had been unsalvageable, so she summoned a flame, burnt them to a crisp, and disposed of the ash.

She also decided to get to know a few of the townspeople over the last few days, or at least those that were in the tavern that morning. Talen-Jei, an Argonian with rich green scales and plumage and bright yellow eyes, came to Riften about five years previous and helped Keerava at the tavern. He liked to experiment with mixing drinks and usually had a new concoction every week. Ildri also caught him gazing at Keerava with a small smile on his reptilian face. He was absolutely smitten, it was adorable.

Marcurio, an Imperial mage with dark hair, tanned skin, and sharp features, usually kept to himself by sitting on a bench by the door. Ildri had spoken to him while eating breakfast before heading to the forge on her second day. She was almost late because once he started talking about the ancient Dwemer, it would not shut his mouth again.

A nord woman named Sapphire stood leaning against the wall by the opposite door that Marcurio haunted. Ildri had attempted to make conversation with the woman before dinner on her second night but received an icy stare from clear blue eyes. Her features were severe, her full lips pulled down into a frown. Ildri thought it best to let the woman be.

Now, Ildri was making her way to Balimund’s for her fourth day of working at the forge. The money was good, but she knew it may not always be. Business at the forge depended greatly on people requiring their services.

“Ildri! I have something slightly different for you to do today,” Balimund called as she entered the forge area. “I need you to run down to Shor’s Stone to pick up an order of ingots I had smelted. I usually send Asbjorn down, but he’s still trying to fill an order.”

“Alright, um, where exactly is Shor’s Stone?” Ildri asked. She’d only been in Skyrim four days now and hadn’t ventured out of Riften’s walls since arriving.

“It’s right down the road from here out of the north gate, but the jaunt will take you a few hours,” the smith replied.

“Ok, so I guess I should head out,” Ildri said, starting to turn away from the blacksmith.

“Be sure to go armed, lass. You never know what lowlifes or creatures could be prowling the road, especially with the war on,” Balimund reminded.

Ildri’s brows furrowed in confusion. “War? What war?” she asked.

“Aye, I forgot you’ve not been here long. It’s a long tale, but in short, the Stormcloaks are fighting for the independence of Skyrim from the Empire. The Imperials, of course, don’t want that,” the old Nord answered succinctly. “Just be careful, lass.”

Ildri nodded and headed back to the Bee and Barb. She hadn’t had her sword strapped on since the first day working the forge, and instead left it in the chest in her room. Well, she figured she needed it today. She also should buy a bow before leaving, but she didn’t have the money or resources for a good one. Guess she would have to settle for a hunting bow.

It took her roughly ten minutes to get her sword strapped to her belt and acquire a bow and a quiver of iron arrows from Grelka in the marketplace. Once ready she started toward the north gate, but her name was called before she could leave the marketplace. Turning, she realized Brynjolf was waving her over.

“You thinking of leaving, lass?” he asked, green eyes concerned and hands clenched slightly at his sides. His stance seemed rigid for some reason, like he was ready to bolt or fight.

Ildri smiled, replying with a small shrug, “Balimund’s sending me on an errand to Shor’s Stone. I should be back tonight.”

“Then try to avoid Fort Greenwall down the road. It’s been overrun with bandits and the guards haven’t seen about it yet,” he stated, his posture relaxing in relief.

“Thanks for the head’s up, Brynjolf,” she replied, but before she could step away, a blond Imperial woman approached, a sword and dagger strapped to her sides. She was wearing leather armor that hugged her every curve, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. A series of straps and pockets criss-crossed her chest, arms, and legs. She seemed lithe and agile in the armor, like it was well-worn and would bend what ever way her body needed. The steps she took did not make a single sound, though Ildri suspected that in the middle of the marketplace, she wouldn’t have heard her footsteps anyway. Her icy blue eyes gazed at Ildri questioningly as she got closer. She looked severe, intimidating even, with her eyes lined with kohl and the sharp angles of her face. Her lips were down-turned and her nose slightly wrinkled, like she smelled something distasteful. With the way the smell of fish permeated the city, Ildri could understand the feeling.

“Vex,” Brynjolf said in greeting. The woman nodded, her shoulder length blond hair swaying with the movement.

“Brynjolf,” she replied, coming to a stop in front of Ildri and the aforementioned red-headed nord. Her piercing gaze locked on Ildri and stayed there, her expression morphing into one of suspicion. “Who’s she?”

“This would be Ildri. Ildri, this is Vex, one of my… business associates,” Brynjolf answered a little awkwardly. Ildri noticed the pause and an eyebrow rose. Another business associate? Just how many did he have?

“It’s good to meet you,” she stated, offering her hand to the imperial woman. Vex glanced down at the hand and frowned, eyes snapping back up to study her before turning away, as if Ildri wasn’t even standing there.

“Well, Bryn, I’m headed to Windhelm for that job. I should be back in a few days,” the imperial woman stated.

“That’s right. Ildri is headed down that road as well. Why don’t you two travel together, at least to Shor’s Stone?” Brynjolf suggested, his left hand waving slightly between the two women. Vex’s glare turned back to Ildri and she felt her stomach drop. She didn’t really want to walk so long with this ice queen, but if there was a fort down the road inhabited by bandits, two armed travelers were better than one.

Vex scowled and turned back to Brynjolf. “I don’t need to be slowed down.”

Anger exploded within Ildri and she snapped, “Slow _you_ down? You don’t know me, lady, so don’t make assumptions.” She turned to Brynjolf, fire in her eyes. “I can handle myself just fine, thanks,” she growled before spinning on her foot and stomping to the eastern gate.

**

Brynjolf exhaled harshly through his nose as he watched Ildri leave, annoyance at both women causing him to grind his teeth together.

“Touchy,” Vex muttered, gripping the strap of her satchel, as she watched Ildri stomp away.

“Dammit, Vex. Ildri is the one I’ve been telling everyone about. She would be a great recruit, but only if she lives long enough to prove herself!” He growled, green-eyed gaze piercing.

Vex scowled, folding her arms across her chest. “And what in Oblivion do you want me to do about it?”

“I wanted you to go with her! You’re travelling in the same direction at the same time, it shouldn’t be that difficult!” He snapped. Vex was unphased.

“If she’s as great as you say she is, then she should be just fine,” the Imperial replied. Brynjolf opened his mouth to retaliate that he’d never seen the lass in combat, but Vex rose her hand to stop him. “If it’s that important to you, then fine, I’ll catch up to her and make sure she’s ok. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Brynjolf nodded, a small smile curving his lips as the tension and annoyance bled from his body. “Thanks, Vex. And good luck on your job.”

Vex nodded, turning to leave and muttering “shadows guide you,” over her shoulder.

**

Ildri scowled as she stomped away from the eastern gate of Riften and down the road. It wasn’t that she was mad at Brynjolf for offering company en route to Shor’s Stone. The idea had been good and very thoughtful, had it not been for the iciness of the person he asked to accompany her. How dare that woman assume to know what Ildri could do? She had been training with weapons since she could hold a sword and had been hunting with her father and brother just as long. Not to mention, she knew a few destruction spells from her mother, so she was by no means defenseless.

Besides, she’d made it through Pale Pass just fine on her own, what were a few bandits in a fort, especially if she could just sneak by them? Though, the thought of leaving the stronghold in the hands of bandits didn’t sit well with her. If she left them there, the bandits would only grow in numbers and continue to threaten and hassle travelers and farmers alike. If she could reduce their numbers, then she would. The smallfolk and merchants had enough troubles of their own without adding bandits to the mix.

After a few minutes of walking, Ildri felt like she was being followed. She didn’t know what made her feel that way, as all she could hear were birdsong and the sounds of the forest surrounding her. No footprints, no rustling fabric. Just a feeling. Frowning she slowed her stride, hand reaching for the pommel of her sword as surreptitiously as possible. She stopped completely and whirled around, pulling her sword out of its sheath, but found the road behind her empty. Frown morphing into a scowl, she called, “I don’t appreciate being followed.” Divines, if no one was actually there, she would feel stupid.

A moment later, the ice queen from before stepped out from behind a tree, eyebrows raised in what seemed to be surprise. Her eyes snapped to the flaming sword and she slowed her approach. Vex, Ildri recalled was her name. “That’s a nice sword. How did you know I was following you?” she asked, stopping several feet away – well out of the sword’s reach – with her hip cocked and her arms folded across her chest.

Ildri did not wipe the scowl from her face. “Why were you following me in the first place?”

Vex shrugged. “Bryn asked me to. He was worried for your well-being or something.” Warmth blossomed in Ildri’s chest at the statement. He’d been worried about her? Meanwhile, Vex’s blue eyes scanned Ildri again, interest now causing them to gleam. It made Ildri a little uncomfortable, her fists clenching around the pommel of _Dragonfang_. The Imperial approached, footsteps light and barely making a sound. “I guess you do have some instincts. I see why Bryn is so interested in you.”

Worried _and_ interested? What did she mean by that? Before Ildri could ask what the other woman meant, Vex looked at her expectantly.

“Well? Are we gonna hit the road or what?”

Ildri sighed and sheathed her sword before turning and heading back down the road. Great. If Vex decided to make this trip down to Shor’s Stone a miserable affair, Brynjolf would certainly hear about this later.

The pair travelled in silence until the fort could be seen in the distance. At that point, both Vex and Ildri instinctually hunched over and snuck to the tree line and off the road. Ildri ignored the Imperial’s look of surprised curiosity and eyed the fort. She could see a couple bandits looking down the road from the dilapidated towers and another patrolling in the archway at the base of the stone walls.

“What are you thinking of doing? Sneak by or approach?” Vex asked.

Ildri frowned, unsure why the other woman – who had vocally doubted her abilities not an hour ago – was willing to follow her lead. “I can only see three bandits, but we have no way of knowing how many there actually are. Engaging them will be dangerous,” she answered, eyes focused on the fort. Vex hummed in agreement. “But… those bandits will cause problems for travelers and merchants on the road. Without their new revenue, local businesses will suffer. We can’t leave them there to get stronger,” she added.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small smile curve the other woman’s features. “Well, that leaves us one option then. We approach. We’ll have to take out the sentries first, try to keep them from sounding the alarm.” Her steely eyes narrowed as she gazed at the old stone building. After a few quiet moments of her eyes scanning the fort, she looked back at Ildri. “I can sneak past the guards and infiltrate their fort. How well do you use that bow on your back?”

“I’ve been hunting since I could walk,” Ildri replied, maybe a little too defensively.

“Alright, I’m depending on you to take out the sentry on the ramparts to the right and the sentry at the gate while I infiltrate on the left side of the fort,” she stated. Before she moved to leave, she flashed a smile at Ildri, a sharp gleam in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll find something of value!” Then she took off, staying close to the ground and out of sight.

Ildri couldn’t disagree with that hope. Staying at the Bee and Barb for an extended period of time was not cheap. Working with Balimund had helped, but food and board had left little coin for other purchases. She barely had enough gold to buy this sad hunting bow on her back.

Taking a breath to steel her nerves, Ildri snuck closer slowly, being sure to keep an eye on the sentries as well as Vex’s position as she advanced. Once she’d moved to a safe distance, she slowly took the bow and an arrow from her back. Knocking the arrow, she aimed at one of the sentries and pulled the bowstring back. It was too light, the wood too bendy and flimsy. It wouldn’t do near the damage her old bow would have. The bow she’d left at her family home in Bruma was a Nordic bow her father had made for her fifteenth birthday, not long before he disappeared. It took strength to pull the bowstring and dealt vicious damage. But, she had a job to do and groaning about the loss of her beloved bow wouldn’t help her here.

Inhaling a breath to steady her body, she stilled her bow hand, the arrow’s fletching resting against her cheek. The sentry paused in their movements and Ildri saw her chance. Exhaling, she released the bowstring. The arrow found its mark seconds later in the chest of the sentry, but before the body could hit the ground, Ildri was aiming and shooting for the sentry at the gate. It took her less than a full minute to kill both bandits. With the lookouts on her end dead, Ildri snuck closer. There were likely more bandits inside and she couldn’t leave them for Vex alone.

As she approached the fort, she could hear a scuffle on the western side. Vex must have taken care of her sentries… hopefully. Quietly, Ildri slowed her approach as she reached the gate.

“Nice work!” Vex congratulated quietly from behind her causing Ildri to jump with surprise.

The young Nord woman whirled around angrily on the older Imperial. “What the hell, Vex?!” she growled, trying with great difficulty to keep her voice down. Vex only smiled impishly back, a hard gleam in her eyes.

“Huh, little girls scare easy, I guess,” she replied with a chuckle, moving around Ildri quietly. “Let’s go, Jumpy.”

**

Vex could admit it. She was impressed. The young woman had acquitted herself very well as they cleared the fort of bandits. She was sure-footed, avoided traps, and lethally efficient with her bow. If she needed to, she could rely on her impressive and expensive-looking flaming sword or an arsenal of destruction spells. All-in-all, Ildri was a capable fighter and would make a good recruit, as Brynjolf had said. Vex wasn’t sure how much Ildri knew about thieving or how good she was picking pockets or breaking into a house – or how Brynjolf was so confident she’d be good without witnessing her in action – but she could pick a lock and sneak around a fort full of bandits, so she had the beginnings. At first, she had just thought Brynjolf wanted to recruit the girl because she was pretty. It wouldn’t have been the first time and usually those recruits didn’t pan out, especially after sleeping with the big oaf. But the man was definitely onto something with Ildri.

They hadn’t found a whole lot of loot – those bandits hadn’t been there too long and so didn’t have an opportunity to build up too much wealth. Ildri did have a discerning eye; Vex noticed she’d pick the more expensive items off the bandits she’d killed as well as pocket semi-valuable knickknacks like potions or books.

“You did good in there,” Vex admitted as they continued on their way to Shor’s Stone. 

Vex smirked back at her, “don’t let it go to your head.” They walked a little longer in silence before Vex decided she really needed to find out more about her. “So, Bryn has told me a little bit about you, like you’re from out of town and that you’re interested in smithing.”

Ildri waited for the other woman to continue, glancing over a couple times before she decided to answer. “Yeah, uh, I’m from… High Rock. Got here a few days ago and staying at the Bee and Barb.” Vex quirked an eyebrow at the pause before she said High Rock. _Could she be lying about that?_ She thought. If she was, then she was hiding something, but why hide about where she was from? It was something she would ponder, but it wasn’t like no one in the Thieves Guild had a fully innocent past. Hell, Thrynn was a bandit before he joined up. Hopefully, whatever it was, wouldn’t impact the guild.

Vex decided to try a different topic, hoping the young nord – or breton? – would open up a little. “Your skill with a blade is impressive, as is your sword,” she started and at the last phrase, Ildri’s hand fell to the pommel of her sword in a non-threatening manor. It was more like she was acknowledging it at her side, a comforting motion. “Did you teach yourself?”

Ildri took a moment to answer. Clearing her throat after a few moments she replied “Uh… no, my da taught me. He is … was… an excellent swordsman.”

“I’m sorry,” Vex stated immediately. Ildri was still using the present tense when speaking of her father… must mean he died recently. It was probably the reason she left home.

A small smile curved on the young woman’s lips, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you,” she replied. She then glanced down at her sword, hand still resting on the pommel. “This is a family heirloom. My father gave it to me before…” she trailed off, hand curling more tightly around the pommel, pain crossing her features. Definitely recently deceased then.

“Does it have a name? Most families give heirlooms like that names,” Vex asked.

Ildri hesitated for a moment before deciding to answer. “We’ve called it _Dragonfang_.”

The name sounded so familiar it gave Vex pause. Where had she heard that name before? Divines, that would bug her until she figured out where she heard that name. She didn’t want to ask Ildri. The young woman was being cagey enough already.

They were quiet for a little while as they continued toward Shor’s Stone. Then, Ildri broke the silence and interrupted Vex’s ruminations on how she knew the name of the sword. “So, uh… you work with Brynjolf?”

“Yes,” was Vex’s short reply. Oh great, another young woman interested in that scoundrel. If Brynjolf ran this one off like the others, she would give him what for. Admittedly, those girls were hoping to find something more with the nord thief and left because they couldn’t face the rejection of him not being interested in deepening the relationship. Ildri seemed a little bit more sensible than that though, but if she were interested in the man…

“It’s just weird… I met Rune last night, who also works with him, but I never see anyone else outside of his market stall. How does he have so many business associates?” she asked.

Uh oh. Damn this girl was perceptive! She didn’t think Bryn had told Ildri anything about the Thieves Guild – he’d only known her for three days for Mara’s sake! Quickly, she thought of some excuse, hoping Ildri would believe it. “Uh, I’m not sure about Rune, but I’m like a – uh – distributer, I guess. There’s a crafter up in Windhelm that sells some of his materials and wares through Brynjolf’s stall.”

“Huh… I didn’t see anything except potions.”

“Right, that’s what the crafter makes,” Vex replied, lamely. Great, that was completely believable.

“Why not just sell to a local apothecary?” Ildri wondered aloud.

Vex’s legendary temper flared, annoyed the younger woman wouldn’t leave it alone. “I don’t know! He just pays me to take his shit places!”

Ildri stumbled in her steps, startled at Vex’s outburst and gave her a wide-eyed stare. Vex refused to look apologetic, hoping her angry glare would discourage Ildri from asking anything else about the subject.

The glare may have worked too well. Ildri didn’t utter a single world the rest of the way to Shor’s Stone. Just as well, Vex figured. There were too many big secrets between them apparently, so it made most topics excluding the weather very nearly taboo.

The two women arrived in Shor’s Stone at noon and stopped to grab a bite at the inn before parting ways. Ildri wished Vex safe travels to Windhelm before turning toward the mines to go about the business she needed to complete. Ultimately, she was glad Brynjolf had convinced her to follow the young woman. Now, if Mercer argued against letting Ildri in when Brynjolf inevitably extended the invitation to join the guild, Vex could back him up. Then the sweet-talking oaf would owe her two favors.

**

Ildri’s routine continued over the next couple of weeks. She woke up at dawn and headed out to the forge to help Balimund fill orders. After a day full of honing blades and tempering armor, she would join Brynjolf at the marketplace and they would walk together to the inn for dinner. They would talk over their food, keeping conversation light. He never pried into her past, respecting her need for privacy. While she was coming to trust him, she hadn’t known him long enough to divulge her whole story.

Some nights, Vex joined them at their table or a Breton named Delvin stopped by. Ildri found Delvin more amiable and amusing, but Vex was a bit of a breath of fresh air with her honesty and straightforwardness, despite the iciness of their first meeting and following adventure to Shor’s Stone. Every now and then, Sapphire would join them from, though her disposition did not warm much from their first meeting. Occasionally, Rune would come in with a Breton man with dark eyes and blond hair named Etienne Rarnis and a wood elf with an angular face and warm, honey-colored eyes named Niruin. She guessed she liked them all, but still found she enjoyed Brynjolf’s company best. He was just so easy-going and friendly, his presence simply put her at ease. 

Twice now since working at the forge, Balimund sent her down to Shor’s Stone to pick up iron and steel ingots, since the traders who came to Riften didn’t always have those on them. She remembered on her second trip back from Shor’s Stone, the guards at the gate had stopped her, claiming she needed to pay the visitor’s tax.

“That’s new,” she replied, frowning at the men by the gate. “Look, Balimund sent me down the road to pick up an order of ingots. He’s expecting me.”

“That’s nice, but if you don’t pay the visitor’s tax, you won’t be allowed within the city,” was the guards reply.

Ildri’s frown deepened to a scowl and loudly stated, “This is obviously a shakedown and I will not be handing any money over to you.”

At those words, the guard raised his hands, saying, “alright, keep your voice down. We’ll let you in.”

Before she walked through the doors, she stopped and glared at them. “You better not be throwing this at other visitors. Travelers have enough to worry about than having to deal with a couple of jerks trying to make extra coins off of them.” Then she walked through the doors, not sparing the guards another glance.

Work at the forge had died down some over the last couple days, though. The guards seemed to be happy with their weapons and armor and there hadn’t been a traveler through the area needing repairs recently. Her daily earnings had trickled down from about 300 gold (she’d earned that at the height of the business a week ago) to just below a 100 gold. Today, Balimund was letting her go early and Ildri found herself at loose ends. She’d been able to save up a little over a thousand, but letting a room at the inn was keeping her from really saving anything. It was about 80 gold a night to sleep at the Bee and Barb, not including calling for a bath or eating breakfast and dinner there. She would need to find another way to make ends meet or move on, even though the idea of moving on from Riften churned her stomach. She’d come to really like Riften, fishy smell and all.

She found herself wandering over to the marketplace, leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the stalls. Brynjolf was arranging some potion bottles at his stall when she approached, but he looked up and smiled at her.

“Done at the smithy already?” he asked.

Ildri sighed, nodding. “Yes, Balimund has run out of work for me to do. I won’t be able to continue at the inn if work doesn’t pick up soon.” She added quietly, “maybe we would have more visitors to town if Maul wouldn’t scare so many away the second they came through the gates.”

Brynjolf’s eyebrows rose. “That’s too bad lass. Remember, if you need to make some extra coin, I can help you out.”

Ildri smiled, eyeing the stall he occupied. “I’m not even sure how you make enough to stay afloat at that tiny stall. I rarely see anyone buy anything from you, Bryn.”

The nord smirked at her as he replied, “oh I was thinking of having you help with a different business venture, one that could make you quite a bit of gold and get you out of that rented room.”

Ildri furrowed her brows at him. What kind of job could make her money and move her out of the inn? Her brain could only come up with one conclusion. “I don’t think I’d make a very good servant, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Brynjolf laughed and shook his head. “No, lass.” He paused, leaning closer to her and dropping the volume of his voice down. “Nothing so mundane, or entirely honest. I have a bit of an errand to run, and I need an extra pair of hands. In my line of work, extra hands are well-paid. Interested?”

Ildri had to admit, she was intrigued. It wasn’t like her hands were exactly clean, either. That ring she stole from Brand-Shei on her first day here was still sitting in the chest in her room at the Bee and Barb. “What do I have to do?”

A wide smile pulled at the corners of Brynjolf’s lips. “It’s simple. I will cause a distraction and you’re going to steal Madesei’s ring from the strong box under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei’s pocket without him knowing.”

“Why plant the ring on Brand-Shei?” Ildri asked. Wouldn’t it be better to sell the ring?

“There’s someone who wants to see him put out of business permanently. That’s all you need to know,” Brynjolf answered.

“Brand-Shei must have pissed someone powerful off then… probably Maven,” Ildri remarked quietly, noting the raised eyebrow from Brynjolf. So maybe, she’d hit the nail on the head with that one. Thankfully, Ildri had never had a run in with the scary matriarch of the Nord family. She’d only had interactions with her oafish son, Hemming, and her sweet, though generally day-dreamy daughter, Ingun.

The Nord shook his head after a moment, a small smile adorning his lips. “Nothing gets past you, lass. Alright, let me know when you want to get started.”

“I’m ready now, Bryn,” Ildri said with ease, rolling her neck and shoulders. She felt nervous, giddy. Excitement bubbled in her belly and anxiety tightened her lungs. Brynjolf was asking her to begin a life of professional thievery. She had the skills, just not the experience of breaking the law. Her father and mother would not have been happy with her, but they weren’t around anymore and she had to do what she could to thrive, rather than just survive. Her brother would have understood that.

Brynjolf smiled again, eyes bright as he nodded with a chuckle. “You don’t waste any time, do you, lass? Here, take these lockpicks. Just let me gain the attention of the crowd so you have a better chance of going unnoticed.” Ildri pocketed the picks he gave her swiftly. With that, he turned away from her and back to his stall, calling for the attention of the people in the market. Ildri didn’t pay attention to what he was saying past ‘learn a library’s worth of knowledge in moments.’ Instead, she casually walked around the stone wall surrounding the marketplace and settled herself by Madesei’s stand. She waited until Brynjolf had the entire marketplace enraptured before she made her move.

Quietly, she crouched, moved behind the jeweler’s stand and removed a lockpick from her pocket. It was an easy lock, surprisingly, and it opened within seconds. The lock on the strongbox was a little tougher, unsurprisingly. Thankfully, Ildri only broke one pick trying to open it. All of that practice at Cloud Ruler Temple had really improved her skill at lockpicking.

Quickly, Ildri removed the ring and closed the strongbox, sliding the door of the counter shut before moving away quietly. She remained against the stone wall, keeping out of sight of guards and pedestrians. Brand-Shei was sitting on a group of boxes opposite Brynjolf’s stall, so Ildri moved behind the stacks. There was a small gap between two boxes that gave Ildri a good view of Brand-Shei, Brynjolf, and the crowd the nord had gathered, though the only one who could see her was Brynjolf. Ignoring the nord’s blue stare, Ildri slowly moved her hand to Brand-Shei’s pocket, gently dropping the ring inside and moving away.

When she had rejoined the crowd, Brynjolf was just wrapping up is spiel. Ildri approached, fighting the triumphant smirk from appearing on her lips. “Nice job, lass,” the nord said quietly when she stood by his stall. He lifted a bag of coins from a drawer in his stall. “Looks like I picked the right person for the job. Here’s your payment, as promised.” Ildri took the bag gladly and finally did smile up at the man. He sighed, relief crossing his features. “With the way things have been going around here, I’m glad the job went off without a hitch.”

Ildri’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? What’s been going on?”

“My organization has been having a run of bad luck, lately, but I supposed that’s how it goes,” he answered with a shrug.

“Organization?”

Brynjolf nodded, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. “Aye, lass, organization. And you did a job for us – very well, I might add. There’s more where that came from, if you think you can handle it.”

“Oh, I think I definitely can handle it,” Ildri replied, hefting the bag of gold coins.

The nord chuckled, green eyes alight with humor. “Alright then. If you think you have what it takes to join the Thieves Guild, come to the Ragged Flagon after the market closes and meet the group I represent. You’ll have to go through the ratway, under the city.” Ildri nodded and he began to pack up at her acceptance. Before he left, he turned back to her and warned, “be sure to go armed, lass. The ratway is dangerous.”

“I will, Bryn. I’ll see you down there,” Ildri replied and headed back to her room at the Bee and Barb for the last time, hopefully. She needed to collect her belongings, then check out with Keerava. Excitement bubbled in her belly as she walked to the inn. She felt a purpose again and couldn’t wait to get started.

**

It didn’t take long for Ildri to realize that the ratway was aptly named. The sun was just beginning to set when she found the entrance off one of the walkways over the canal. Upon opening the door, the smell that hit her made her hair curl in its braid. Small, dark shapes rushed from one side of the hallway to the other, trying to find a place hidden in shadow, away from the dim light being cast from the entryway. With a last breath of fishy, fresh air, Ildri took her first step into the system of sewers under the city, shutting the door quietly behind her.

The hallway was immediately cast into darkness, only lit by a small torch at the other end. Ildri walked towards it, slowing when she heard voices ahead. She wasn’t sure what to expect, except that Brynjolf had told her to come prepared. She assumed that meant the people down here were dangerous, but wanted to be sure. Slowly, Ildri stepped into the light, coming face-to-face with two very dirty men, one Wood Elf and the other Nord. They cut off their conversation – something about another heist – when they saw her, immediately reaching for their weapons.

“What’s a little thing like you doing down here?” the Bosmer asked, a sneer curling his lips as he took a threatening step closer, dagger held out to the side. Ildri’s hand itched to grab _Dragonfang_ or her hunting bow, but she waited.

“Nothing, I just wanted a change of scenery,” Ildri replied and the Nord snorted.

“You’re the first bit of scenery we’ve ever seen down here,” the big Nord rumbled, advancing on her with his friend.

Frowning, Ildri grabbed the hilt of her sword. “I suggest you let me pass,” she warned.

“Why not stop and stay a while?” the Bosmer simpered.

“I don’t think so,” was Ildri’s quick reply as she pulled _Dragonfang_ from its sheath, fire erupting along its edge. The Nord and Wood Elf leapt at her, their own blades raised. Ildri lifted her blade to block, but their superior combined strength pushed her back even with the heat of the flames from the sword. She ducked under a swing from the Nord’s big sword and rolled away to dodge a lunge from the Wood Elf. Realizing she didn’t have the strength to push them back with her sword, she jumped back and shoved _Dragonfang_ back in its sheath. She let loose a stream of flame from her hands to drive her attackers back and give her some distance. As quickly as she could, she pulled the bow off her back along with two iron arrows, holding one in her fist as she drew the other back and took aim. The Bosmer was fast to react, attempting to get close to her before she could properly aim. She shot him first, the arrow embedding itself in the center of the elf’s thigh and dropping him like a stone with a loud cry of pain. The Nord bellowed a war cry and charged her. Ildri rolled around him and knocked the other arrow, aiming at the back of the tall Nord’s head. A second later, an arrow protruded from the back of the Nord’s neck at the base of his skull.

Standing, Ildri turned to the Bosmer, another arrow on the bowstring and pulled back. He let out a string of curses before trying to throw his dagger at her. It was a poor throw and she easily side-stepped the flung dagger. The elf struggled to his feet, pulling another dagger out of a pocket in his armor and began advancing on her again, slowly this time. “Stand down. I don’t want to have to kill you,” Ildri commanded, not letting up the tension on her bowstring.

He spat at her, before lunging for her again and Ildri let her arrow fly. The elf collapsed to the ground in the next moment, gurgling his last breath around an arrow buried in his throat. Ildri sighed, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. She hated killing, even if these were just a couple of moral-less bandits. Either way, they were dead now, it would be a waste to leave their gold and valuables behind. Frowning, she bent down to pat the elf’s pockets for coin purses or jewels, before yanking out her arrows. They had been discussing another heist before running off to live on their stolen goods. They had to have some things of value.

Once she’d finished, she came away with 20 gold septims and a flawed garnet. Sighing, she stood and made her way through the small area and through another dark room. The next room she found herself in was mostly dark but she could make out some details. She was up on a platform and directly across from her looked to be a wooden wall. In the far corner was a doorway where light spilled into the room. Beneath her platform was a shut iron gate. However, the platform she stood on was a dead end.

“Great…” she muttered to herself before making sure her weapons were fashioned securely to her leather armor before crouching down. It looked to be about a seven foot drop to the ground. She wouldn’t break anything if she was careful. Grasping onto the edge, she slowly lowered herself down until her arms were fully extended and still holding onto the edge. Now she had a little more than a foot and a half left to drop, which was much better than seven. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Ildri decided to check the gate first. It was the closest exit and there looked to be stairs leading up on the other side. When she tried to turn the handle to open it, it rattled but didn’t budge. Locked then. Crouching, Ildri took a look at the lock on the gate and sighed when she realized it was an expert lock. She had been able to unlock adept without too many broken picks but worried that an expert lock may break all she had. She couldn’t leave a locked door alone either – call it a competitive streak – so she pulled out a few picks and got to work.

Ten lockpicks later, there was a click and with a shout for joy, she swung the gate open and walked through. At the top of the stairs she was returned to the room she had been in previously and noticed a lever on the wall by the wooden wall. She pulled it, curious to see what it did. There was a mechanical banging noise before the wooden wall fell to become a bridge connecting the platform leading outside to the platform she stood on currently. Smiling triumphantly to herself, she turned to the last open doorway and climbed the last few steps. She found herself in another room and before she could look around, there was a deranged shout. From the shadows, a man leapt at her with his fists swinging. Ildri only had seconds to respond and quickly yanked her sword out of the sheath, swiping it in an arc around her. The tip of the blade slashed across the man’s abdomen and the flames singed his shirt and chest hair. The man screamed and dashed away, back into the shadows, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Ildri decided not to follow him, hoping he’d survive the wounds she inflicted. Instead, she turned to her left, where a door sat closed in shadow. It was her only route, so she walked towards it, pulling it open when she reached it.

It opened to a large circular room with a large round pool in the center. Surrounding the pool was a walkway with several domed alcoves cut into the walls. At the other end of the pool from the door Ildri stood in front of, a wooden deck with several tables was situated. She could see the silhouettes of a few people sitting and drinking at them. Behind them, light spilled from what Ildri assumed was a large fireplace. Looking down the pathway to her right, she spied a ramp leading into the lit area, a sign hanging over it. Cautiously, she approached, hoping she wasn’t walking into a nest of dangerous people.

Relief flooded her when she realized the sign read “The Ragged Flagon.” Instead of her cautious approach, she stood up straight and walked with purpose toward the ramp leading into the tavern. She found it strange no one was guarding the entrance, considering the amount of crazies she’d run into during her short foray through the ratway, but cautiously walked into the small tavern anyway. There were a few people present, but all of them were standing or sitting around the bar, facing a man in dark leather armor – similar to what she’d seen Vex wear the first time she’d met her.

“Face it Brynjolf, those days are over. You, Mercer, Delvin, Vex… you’re all part of a dying breed,” came a voice from over behind the bar. Wait… Vex _and_ Delvin? They were part of this… organization too? Ildri sighed, thinking back to her conversation with Vex on their way to Shor’s Stone a few weeks back. Ildri knew the Imperial had been hiding something, but she didn’t expect this! Who else had she met with Brynjolf that could be involved in this, too?

“I’m telling you, this one’s different,” came Brynjolf’s familiar brogue and Ildri realized he was the one in the dark leather armor everyone was facing. How she hadn’t recognized the red hair, she could only blame the low lighting in the place.

“Stop kidding around. We’ve heard all that before, Bryn,” another man argued.

“It’s time to face the truth, old friend,” the bar keep added.

“Oh yeah?” Brynjolf replied cockily before turning around and spotting Ildri in front of the ramp. A smug smile curved his lips as everyone else noticed her for the first time as well. How in Oblivion had he known she was standing there? “What do you call _that_ , then?” At that, he approached her, that smug smile never leaving his face.

Ildri blushed, watching him move in his armor. It fit him like a glove, accentuating his broad shoulders, wide chest, and muscular arms and legs. It definitely suited him much better than the fancy attire he wore at his market stall. Alarmingly, Ildri suddenly realized how attractive the other man was. Mara have mercy…

It took her a moment longer than she would have liked to realize he’d started talking to her. “—impressed, lass. I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again,” he was saying.

Ildri’s blush deepened and thanked the divines the lights were so low in here that he probably couldn’t tell her face had changed color from its usual pale tone to red. “It wasn’t that hard, honestly…” she heard herself replying, even though her fight with the two men at the entrance had left her just a little rattled.

“Reliable and headstrong? You’re turning out to be quite the prize,” his smug smile curved into a smirk and Ildri felt her stomach do a somersault. Damn, the man had never acted like this before, keeping their conversations polite and friendly and open. Now she felt like he was flirting with her! “We need more people like you in our outfit,” he added, losing the flirtatious tone and switching to business.

“Well, if there’s more gold involved, I’m in,” Ildri replied, finally getting herself under control. Though, she did have a concern to voice before she officially joined them.

“That’s the spirit, lass. Larceny is in your blood, the tell-tale sign of a practiced thief. I think you’ll do more than just fit in around here,” Bryn stated.

“Um, before we do anything else, I need to ask… you said up in the marketplace that you’ve had some hard times recently. To what extent do those hard times affect the… organization?” she asked, still not exactly sure what exactly to call this group.

Brynjolf sighed, “yes, we’ve run into a rough patch, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. If you keep doing jobs and making us coin, I’ll worry about everything else, deal?” Ildri frowned, not liking that he didn’t trust her enough to tell her what was going on. Either way, she’d decided this was the path she would take to really begin her new life, she wasn’t about to abandon it.

“Alright,” she replied.

Brynjolf nodded, a pleased smile curving his lips once again. “Now, if there are no more questions, how about you follow me and I’ll show you what we’re all about?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ildri is brought into the Thieves Guild and is given her first task: Goldenglow.

Chapter 3

Brynjolf led Ildri from the Ragged Flagon, through a false door in a cabinet hiding the hallway leading into the guild headquarters proper, and then finally into the Cistern. He eyed her as they entered, gratified to notice her awed look as she took in her surroundings. Her steel grey eyes lit up as she gazed around, her full lips curving into a smile. That she seemed to like the living and working quarters of the guild bode well for her stay here.

  
He’d always thought the room was an interesting space. It was circular, with light pouring in from the oculus at the top of the domed ceiling – what looked like a well on the surface of Riften. How sound didn’t travel through that opening from down here, Brynjolf wasn’t sure, but it saved them all from detection from the world above. Two waterfalls poured into the room from pipes high up in the walls, filling a circular mote that surrounded the center island. Around the edges of the room were beds, a kitchen, weapons training, and Mercer’s office. Niriun – who had been firing arrows at a target against the wall in the weapons training area – paused his shooting and offered a little wave. Sapphire and Etienne stood by the cooking fire with Cynric Endell and Vipir the Fleet. They paused what they were doing to watch Brynjolf lead Ildri to the center of the Cistern. On the center island stood Mercer, the guild leader, who was tapping his foot impatiently as he watched Brynjolf and Ildri approach. Vex stood by him and Brynjolf felt relief flood through him at seeing her there. So, this time he’d actually have some support recruiting a new face.

  
Crossing the bridge over the shallow mote, Brynjolf led Ildri to the stand before the guild master. “Mercer, this is the one I’ve been telling you about, the new recruit,” he stated, indicating Ildri standing next to him.

  
The crotchety old thief gave her an unimpressed once over before he turned to Bryn, scowling. “This better not be another waste of the guild’s resources, Brynjolf.”  
“Don’t worry, Mercer, this lass has proven herself to be capable,” he replied. Mercer only huffed in response, hard gaze full of doubt. Admittedly, Brynjolf had a bad habit of recruiting pretty young ladies who had a small modicum of skill, but never stayed long. Mercer had recently told him not to recruit anyone, unless he was absolutely sure, and he needed another guild member to vouch for the recruit.

  
Vex chose that moment to voice her approval of the young lass. “She helped me clear out the fort down the road of bandits. She’s a good shot with her bow, proficient with her sword, and usually aware of her surroundings. With some training, she could prove useful to the guild.” High praise coming from the imperial, but one glance at Ildri and Bryn knew she felt the other woman had sold her short.

  
Mercer harrumphed again as he studied Ildri, considering her now. He sighed, hands moving to his hips as a hard gleam settled in his eyes, glaring at Ildri as if to put the fear of the Divines in her. “Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules, you lose your share. No debates, no discussions. You do what we say, when we say,” he growled. When Ildri didn’t immediately respond, Mercer turned fully to face her, even taking a threatening step toward her and demanding, “Do I make myself clear?”

  
Surprise flitted across Ildri’s face at Mercer’s tone, but she answered quickly, “C-crystal clear.”

  
“Good, then I think it’s time to put your expertise to the test,” the guild master concluded. Alarm shot through Brynjolf like lightning at the words. They only had one big job open; Goldenglow. It was a massive undertaking for even an experienced thief, let alone a brand-new recruit. Vex had barely made it out of there alive! What was Mercer thinking?! Taking a glance at Vex, it looked like she had reached the same conclusion if the shock and indignation on her features were anything to go by.

  
“You’re not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Vex couldn’t even – “ he interjected, but Mercer cut him off.

  
“You claim this recruit has what it takes to join our line of work. Let her prove it,” he stated, brooking no argument and ending the matter effectively. Vex huffed and stormed off, obviously insulted. Anxiety bubbled in Brynjolf’s gut as Mercer turned back to Ildri and began to give her details about the job. There was no way the lass was ready for something like this. Granted, she’d held her own at the fort, if what Vex said was true and knowing Vex, it most likely was. Not to mention, she was brilliant in the marketplace performing her task. He knew she was much more than a pretty face. But still, that didn’t mean she was ready to infiltrate a heavily armed building, steal the bill of sale from Aringoth’s safe, then sneak back out and burn down three beehives. Vex was their most proficient infiltrator. If she couldn’t do it, then not many people could. He heard his name mentioned – something about providing the rest of the details of the job – and tuned back in to the conversation.

  
“I would feel more comfortable if Ildri is allowed to train a day or two before heading out to Goldenglow – to improve her chances, of course,” Brynjolf requested.  
Mercer gave him a dark look, obviously impatient with his second-in-command questioning his decision and probably doubting his motives, but Brynjolf was not going to give in. Not about this. Finally, after a brief but intense stare down, the old thief growled to himself before huffing, “fine,” before sharply turning away and moving to head back to his desk.

  
“Mercer,” Brynjolf called just as the Guild Master was stepping away from him and Ildri, “aren’t you forgetting something?” He’d be damned if he let Mercer assign a brand-new recruit an impossible job without formerly recognizing her as a guild member.

  
The old thief turned, mumbling something under his breath before lifting his sharp annoyed gaze to Ildri. “Since Brynjolf assures me you’ll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you’re in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild,” he growled before turning again and heading away toward his desk. Brynjolf noticed Ildri’s cheeks had colored adorably, but he wasn’t sure if it was about what he’d told the Guild Master or for her finally joining the Thieves Guild. She had blushed earlier when he had talked to her in the Ragged Flagon, though. Admittedly, he had flirted with her a bit, finally fully at ease in his own home. With how endearing she looked when her cheeks tinged pink he was determined to see her cheeks change color like that again.

  
She turned toward him and a full smile bloomed on her face, curling her lips and making her eyes shine pleasantly. Brynjolf felt his own features mirror her expression, happy and relieved she was finally a member. Now he didn’t have to walk on eggshells whenever their conversations delved into territory related to his work and associates. Hopefully, she would be able to open up a little more as well, but he’d give her time for that. It took most of the people down here a while before they felt comfortable enough to share their past with someone. But they were a family, not just a business, and she’d feel that way soon, too.

  
“Alright, now that you’re in, lass, let me show you around,” Brynjolf stated, leading her toward the bunks out in the cistern. Only ‘officers’ had private rooms, all the other members of the guild slept out in the cistern. While they didn’t have official ‘officers’ or titles within the guild outside Guild Master and Guild Fence, he, Delvin, and Vex were all senior members and so warranted private rooms. Vex and Delvin were both in charge of training new recruits and managing contacts within the other holds for job notifications. Brynjolf helped Mercer with the day-to-day of the guild as second-in-command. “Here’s your bunk. That nightstand and chest there are also yours now,” he stated as they came to a stop in front of a bed near the door leading back to the ragged flagon. Ildri stopped to drop her pack on her bed. It was considerably lighter than the first time he’d seen it, when she was unloading it at Brand Shei’s stall. It wasn’t empty by any means, probably loaded with whatever she picked up over the last few weeks while in Riften. It was curious, how little she carried for having said she’d travelled from High Rock. Brynjolf had long ago concluded she hadn’t actually been travelling but running from something.

  
The young woman did not show any indication that she was on the run, aside from the lack of personal possessions and her avoidance of talking much about her past. She appeared happy whenever Brynjolf had the opportunity to observe her, either working at the forge or over dinner. Her steel grey eyes would light up when she smiled and cute dimples would appear in her cheeks.

  
Admittedly, he found her attractive, but Vex had given him a stern talking to after she returned from Windhelm and told him about Ildri’s performance at the fort. She wasn’t going to let him pursue anything with the young recruit beyond friendship. He sighed in disappointment at the thought.

  
Ildri turned back to him, eyebrows raised with an expectant look on her face. She waited for a moment before asking, “What are you gonna show me next? I’ve seen the Ragged Flagon and pretty much everything in here.”

  
“Aye lass, but there are a few more things you should see. Then, we’re going to get started right away on your training.”

**

  
Brynjolf led her down a hallway to the left of the entrance from the Ragged Flagon. A small room split off from the hallway with wooden barriers erected that Brynjolf stated were the restrooms, but he continued past it. The hallway ended in a large room filled with several different chests, an archery target, and two practice dummies.  
“This is the training room. Those chests there are to improve your lockpicking skill. They range up in difficulty. Let’s start there, I want to see how proficient you are at that particular skill,” Brynjolf stated, offering her a three lockpicks to get started.

  
Ildri shrugged, not caring to mention that she had successfully picked her way through the locked gate in the ratway not an hour ago. Instead, she took the offered lockpicks, knelt in front of the chest Brynjolf identified as the novice lock, and got to work. “So, uh… that Mercer, guy. Is he always like that?” she asked as the lock of the novice chest clicked open with very little effort. She wasted no time moving onto the apprentice lock and beginning her picking.

  
She heard Brynjolf shrug behind her by the rustling of his very form-fitting armor. “You get used to it after a while. He’s a jerk, yeah, but he’s a good leader. Kept our little operation afloat through all the trouble and drama we went through. Without his leadership, we would have crumbled a long time ago.”

  
Ildri nodded and continued working. Her first impression of the Guild Master was that he was a grumpy old man that expected everyone to follow his orders without delay or argument. Almost immediately, the older man set her on edge. In all honesty, Mercer scared her.

  
Not to mention, he’d assigned her – according to Brynjolf – a very difficult job that a new member should not have been assigned. Brynjolf had also mentioned something about Vex having trouble with the same job, and she’d seen the other woman in action. The imperial was a damned shadow, footsteps quiet as a prayer and lethal with her blade. Maybe she should ask her about it, see what went wrong and if she had any advice for her. Though with how icy and standoffish the other woman could be, she wasn’t sure if she’d answer her questions.

  
A click sounded as the apprentice lock popped open and Ildri moved over to the adept lock. So far she hadn’t broken any picks and she hoped to keep that up until she got to expert. But adept locks were a good bit harder than novice or apprentice so she had to really focus on the tumblers and the tension in her pick. Even as she tried to focus on picking the lock, she could feel the weight of Brynjolf’s stare as he observed her. It was almost too distracting to focus. Almost.

  
The heavy silence only held for a couple minutes before the adept lock finally clicked open and Ildri moved over to the expert lock. “Nice work, lass,” Brynjolf encouraged as she readied herself for the expert lock. She’d only picked a couple of these successfully before, but she still had all the picks Brynjolf gave her. That gave her three tries to open the difficult lock. She broke the first one almost immediately and she cursed under her breath. The second pick at least found the sweet spot before it, too, broke. On the third try, the pick went almost all the way to unlocking, but the tension was too great and it snapped as well. Sighing in frustration, Ildri stood, scowling as she dusted off the knees of her old set of leathers.

  
Brynjolf had a broad smile on his face when she turned to face him, a proud, sparkling gleam in his eye. “Very good, lass. I knew you had some talent!”

  
Ildri’s scowl deepened and she turned slightly to glare back at the expert lock. “I didn’t open that one though. I couldn’t even get to the master level lock.”

  
Brynjolf shook his head, smile still plastered to his face. “If you had another couple of picks, that lock would have opened to you. Besides, no thief worth their salt would walk around with so few lockpicks. You could train a few of these others to improve their lock picking skills!” She found herself shyly smiling back at the praise, her cheeks heating slightly. She ducked her head, hoping he hadn’t noticed the color blooming on her cheeks.

  
Awkwardly, she cleared her throat, eyes still trained on the ground. “So, what’s next?”

  
Suddenly, a finger hovered under chin, lightly tilting her head back up to look at the nord thief. When her gaze found his again, his hand dropped back to his sides, eyes unreadable. Ildri found herself lost in his gaze, color and heat deepening in her cheeks. If he hadn’t seen her blush before, he certainly had now. His green eyes held her gaze for several moments, before his lips curved slightly in a small smile. “I was thinking dinner over in the Ragged Flagon,” he replied easily. He moved away from her, toward the opening to the hallway leading back into the cistern and Ildri felt like she’d just been doused with cold water, the spell broken and her voice at a loss.

  
That damned man knew exactly what he was doing to her! Growling to herself, she vowed she’d get him back. She wasn’t going to be the only one of the two of them blushing! She would just have to do some investigating, figure out what things got him to change colors.

  
When she caught up with him, he turned to look at her, a small smug grin on his face. Ildri glared at him to which he only laughed. “While we’re at the Flagon, you should talk to Tonillia about getting set-up with new armor. Also, if you’re interested in extra jobs you could talk to Delvin and Vex. They’re a good way to earn some extra coin,” he instructed, as if that moment in the training room hadn’t happened.

  
Ildri shook off the remnants of her earlier embarrassment and nodded, moving back to business. “I’ll talk to Tonilia before dinner then. Maybe I’ll talk to Delvin and Vex about new jobs after Golden Glow.” A sharp intake of breath made her glance over at Brynjolf. He looked angry and worried, eyes narrowed as he glared ahead and jaw clenched. Leather creaking made her realize that his fists had also clenched.

  
After a moment, he exhaled hard through his nose and muttered, “Aye, lass, that’s a good idea.”

  
A few moments later and they’d walked into the Ragged Flagon. Ildri went directly to Tonilia, who was about as delightful at first meeting as Vex. The young nord did not stay long to converse with the prickly redguard woman after receiving her armor and inquiring about the value of the ring she stole from Brand Shei when she first arrived. As soon as she received the gold for the ring (about 40 gold coins), she went in search of some place to change into her new leathers without any prying eyes. The alcoves lining the walk around the small pool of water offered her enough seclusion to change in comfort.

  
The armor was similar to Brynjolf’s and Vex’s, but brown instead of black with soft fur lining the inside to provide an extra layer of warmth. She assumed the black color must signify rank within the guild. It took Ildri several minutes to buckle all the buckles, but when she had everything on and in place correctly, she realized just how well it hugged her body. Pockets and buckles criss-crossed her chest, arms, and legs, affording ample space to quickly pocket items, the perfect armor for a thief. It was still a little stiff – still new – so it wouldn’t move quite as nimbly as she would like just yet. It would take some breaking in, but, every curve was on display from her narrow waist to her wider hips and thighs. She wondered if the pesky nord would react the same way she did when she first saw him in his Thieves Guild gear. The thought made her smirk. Payback so soon? Sure, she’d take it.

  
Sauntering back into the Flagon proper, she spotted Brynjolf at one of the tables, digging into a bowl of stew, another bowl steaming at the empty seat opposite him with a flagon sitting next to it.

  
“That gear suits you, Ildri,” Delvin complimented in his nasally voice loud enough to gain everyone’s attention who found themselves in the Flagon at that moment. At the comment, Brynjolf looked up and his reaction almost made Ildri laugh. He had just taken a sip from his tankard when Delvin spoke, grabbing his attention. Those green eyes widened comically and he seemed to forget he had a mouth full of liquid, because he tried to inhale and instead sputtered and choked. Red blossomed on his cheeks, the scar running down his left cheek stood out starkly against the color.

  
Vex moved over behind him and thumped him on the back, smiling widely the whole time. “You alright there, Bryn? See something that startled you?” she needled, and Brynjolf sent her a withering glare when he’d conquered the coughing. At that, Ildri couldn’t keep the giggles in any longer.

  
Still smiling widely, she plopped down in the seat opposite Brynjolf, dropping her old armor in an empty chair. “Better?” she asked smugly, leaning forward against the table and reaching for her flagon. Bryn only grumbled, clearing his throat occasionally as he sipped at his drink, cheeks still pink and eyes not meeting hers. Well, now they were even.

  
Ildri had just started to take a bite of her stew when another bowl was set down on the table next to theirs, across from Vex. The nord woman looked over to see Rune taking the seat, smiling at her. “Hey, Ildri! Welcome to the Guild!”

  
“Rune!” She greeted the imperial thief before switching her gaze to Vex then Brynjolf and stating flatly, “Why am I not surprised?” Vex smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the red-headed nord, who looked between both women obviously confused.

  
“What?” he asked.

  
“Just that you need to come up with a better lie when you’re introducing people than ‘they’re a business associate,’” Ildri replied dryly, picking up her tankard and taking a swallow, then smiling at the red-headed nord teasingly. Brynjolf just rolled his eyes and huffed, turning his attention back to his stew and proceeding to ignore those sitting around him.

  
“So, Ildri,” Rune started, catching her attention. “Some of us are getting together later for drinks out on the docks. I just wanted to know if you were interested in joining us and getting to know some of the other members?”

  
Ildri smiled at the offer, nodding quickly before glancing back at Brynjolf. “You don’t need me for any more training tonight, right?”

  
The older nord shook his head. “No, lass, you go have your fun. Just be sure to get some sleep tonight. You’ll be training bright and early in the morning.”

  
The young nord woman nodded, smiling brightly at Brynjolf before digging into her stew with gusto. She hadn’t gone to have drinks with anyone really since before she left Bruma, and even that was a rare occurrence. Her dinners with Brynjolf the last few weeks didn’t really count as outings, since they were always over dinner, always in the same place – which coincidentally happened to be where she was staying – and they never did anything different. And this… she finally felt like she was being included in something. She always felt she lacked that when she lived in Bruma. The mages guild treated her a certain way because of her mother – always holding her at arm’s length or expecting her to report anything they would say back to her ma. It was the same with the Blades, since her da was their commanding officer, no one really opened up to her. There weren’t really many other groups in town to join, other than the fighter’s guild, so Ildri always felt just a little isolated. Tonight, she was finally given an opportunity to make her own friends.

  
Once she and Rune finished their dinners, they made their way out of the Flagon, Rune grabbing a couple bottles of Black Briar Mead and a bottle of spiced wine from the man behind the bar – who introduced himself as Vekel – before leading her back into the Cistern. He turned back to look at her, a smile on his face. “Now that you’re in, you can use the secret entrance through the crypt,” he stated, a smile curling the corners of his thin lips and a happy gleam sparkling in his light brown eyes. They stopped by her bed to drop off her old armor before he led her up the ladder just passed the kitchen and into a small, dark chamber. Rune reached out his right hand toward the wall, where a metal ring hung suspended from a chain, and pulled it hard. A loud grating noise startled Ildri, making her jump as her eyes snapped to the stone ceiling of the chamber they were in. It was sliding back into the wall!

  
After the stone slab completely disappeared into the wall, Rune led her up the stairs into the graveyard behind the Temple of Mara. “C’mon. We’re all really excited you’ve finally joined the Guild and want to give you a proper welcome!” At least now, they were back in the city proper, and Ildri mostly knew where they were headed, so she figured the imperial didn’t really need to lead her too much anymore.

  
“Rune? There was something I’ve been wanting to ask you, since I met you really,” Ildri started as she fell into step with him.

  
He looked up at her, a small smirk on his lips. “It’s about the name, huh?” he asked.

  
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I don’t mean to pry or sound like a snob, I guess, it’s just, the name is a little strange. Is it a nickname?” she asked.

  
Rune shook his head. “Rune is the name given to me by the man who raised me. I don’t know what my given name is, actually, nor do I really care to know.”

  
“Oh,” was all Ildri could think of to reply with.

  
The imperial smiled at her, obviously attempting to be reassuring. “It’s alright, Ildri. The man who raised me may not have been my sire, but he gave me a loving home and a roof over my head. We didn’t have much, which is why I turned to…” he glanced around at the empty streets of Riften as they made their way toward the docks, making sure no one was around to overhear their conversation. Comforted that no one was about, he continued, though in a quieter tone, “why I turned to thievery. The man I call father, the man who found me, was a fisherman. He didn’t have a large boat or the ability to really build a full fishing operation, so he didn’t make much coin. Thieving was the only way to be sure we survived. But I don’t regret my upbringing.”

  
Ildri nodded, though the Imperial still didn’t fully explain the name. “But, why did your father name you Rune?”

  
He sighed before pulling open the doors leading to the docks, letting Ildri through first before closing them behind them. “The name came from this stone my father said he found on me when he discovered me as a young boy in the wreckage of a ship north of Solitude. The stone is blank except for one rune.” He reached into a pocket of his armor and pulled out a small, smooth, and circular stone with a strange marking on one side. “I have no idea what it means and I’ve spent most of my money on research and scholars to help figure it out. I’ve even taken the damned thing to the College in Winterhold and no luck. No one knows what it means, but it’s all I have from my past, before the ship wreck.”

  
They were almost to the edge of the dock, a small gathering of people visible and already laughing, drinking, and having a good time in general. Ildri, lightly put her hand on Rune’s upper arm, pausing their walk. “This means a lot to you. How about I keep an eye out for any information that may help?”

  
A large smile appeared on Rune’s face, the corners of his light brown eyes crinkling. “Thanks, Ildri. That would be great,” he replied appreciatively.

  
Ildri smiled in response before nodding her head toward the gathering of thieves. “How about we join the party?”

  
There were a few people present that Ildri recognized from meeting at the Bee and Barb before, some of which she was genuinely surprised to see at the gathering. “Etienne! You're a member too?” she exclaimed surprised. Niruin hadn't been too much of a surprise -- though she had bought his story of being a hunter. Sapphire surprised her even less with her presence, but Ildri couldn't figure out why the other woman was scowling at her.

  
The breton thief smiled at her, dark eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I joined up a few months ago. They've been giving me mostly small jobs. I heard Mercer gave you Golden Glow!” Etienne exclaimed.

  
Ildri shrugged, the smile beginning to feel a little forced. “I'm not sure that's something I should be celebrating. From what I gathered from both Brynjolf's and Vex's reactions, that job is dangerous.”

  
“Hm, yeah. Vex barely made it out of there. Said something about mercenaries hired to guard the place,” Niruin added. The Bosmer studied her for a minute before smiling at her reassuringly. “Don't worry, Ildri. Brynjolf won't send you in until he feels you're ready for it, despite what Mercer demands. Besides, from what Vex has said, you can handle yourself pretty well. I heard you're a dead shot with your bow!”

  
Warmth gathered in Ildri's cheeks as she blushed. “Vex really said that? She didn't sound so impressed when she was telling Mercer about me.”

  
“Oh, that’s just her way. If Vex says anything positive about you, she actually thinks pretty highly of you,” Rune reassured. “But, we’re here to drink and celebrate you joining the Guild! Come, meet Cynric Endell, a former jailbreaker,” he continued, indicating another Breton man with pale grey eyes, long dark hair, and a stubbled chin and jaw. He smiled at her charmingly, cheeks dimpling, and bowed his head slightly in greeting, murmuring ‘good to meet you.’

  
Rune moved to the next man, this one a tall Nord wearing sleeveless guild armor. He had blond hair down to his shoulders with the top half pulled back into a braid. His eyes were clear blue and his cheeks and jaw chiseled and strong, a goatee surrounding his chin and thin lips. Two red stripes adorned his cheeks just below his eyes, which curved slightly as he smiled at her. “This is Thrynn,” Rune introduced.

  
“It’s a pleasure, lass,” Thrynn stated.

  
Rune then indicated another new face. He was Nord with light brown hair also down to his shoulders and a strong, square, stubbled jaw. He had a happy demeanor, his lips wide with a smile and honey eyes bright with cheer. “And this is Vipir the Fleet, our resident pickpocket master. He offers some training if you have need of it,” Rune finished.  
“We’re glad you finally joined. Brynjolf would not shut up about you!” Vipir laughed, causing red to gather in Ildri’s cheeks again.

  
“I’m sure he didn’t have that much to say about me,” she replied, trying to shrug off the comment.

  
“You’re right,” came a harsh, feminine voice. Ildri turned to Sapphire, still surprised to see the glare in her blue eyes and scowl on her full lips. “Brynjolf didn’t have more to say about you than the other girls he’s recruited. And it’s likely you’ll end up just like them too. Used, then tossed aside. They all leave eventually, only wasting our time as well as their own by joining us.”

  
Silence fell on the group gathered, the men seemingly holding their breath as they waited to see how Ildri would react to Sapphire's taunt. All Ildri could feel was surprise, even a little indignant hurt, but the other Nord woman had always been standoffish. Briefly, she wondered if all the women in the guild were frosty by nature or became that way the longer they were in the guild. Casting aside her musing, she scowled at the offending woman and asked in a quiet, but dangerous tone, “Do you have a problem with me joining, Sapphire?”

  
Sapphire huffed and rolled her eyes before returning her glare to Ildri. “Only insofar as you are wildly untested and Mercer gives you a huge job like Goldenglow? If you fail, it could mean the end of the guild!”

  
Ildri’s anger softened at the other woman's words. Sapphire was only concerned for the guild and her home, something Ildri couldn't fault her for. She probably would have responded the same if she’d been in the other woman’s shoes. Sighing, she replied, “It wasn't my idea to take the Goldenglow job. Brynjolf protested the assignment, but Mercer is determined that this is how I'll prove myself. Believe me when I tell you that I'll do everything within my power to complete the task successfully.” As she finished speaking, she made sure to make eye contact with Sapphire so the other woman would accept her sincerity.

  
After a moment, the Nord woman nodded once, still scowling severely but at least she had acknowledged Ildri's promise. “I'll be watching when you go,” she stated before knocking back the rest of her drink, nodding to the others gathered, then turning and heading back up the docks and toward Riften.

  
The others remained quiet as Sapphire made her exit. Finally, Niruin broke the silence, saying, “don’t worry about her, Ildri. Sapphire was always prickly until you got to know her.”

  
Ildri frowned and a huff of air escaped her lips. “She wasn’t wrong for worrying about the guild, though. I just wish she wouldn’t blame me for being assigned Goldenglow,” she replied, turning back to her guildmates. “Maybe Mercer has it out for me or something, hopes I’ll either die or fail so ridiculously that I get kicked out.”

  
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to prove him wrong!” Cynric encouraged cheerfully. Ildri felt a smile curl the corners of her lips and thanked the breton for his reassurance.  
The group of thieves stayed gathered at the end of the docks, drinking, eating, and otherwise being merry for several more hours. Ildri took the time to get to know her new guildmates and learned that Etienne’s true passion was baking. He joined the guild in the hopes to raise enough coin to buy some land on the outside of Riften along one of the main thoroughfares and build an inn and bakery.

  
Cynric left jailbreaking behind after a three year stint in a High Rock prison and joined the guild when he came to Skyrim. He believed his skills allowed him to be more suited to a life of a thief rather than following in the path of an assassin and planned to retire in Cyrodil once he’d saved enough gold.

  
Niriun gave up a life of wealth and luxury with a loving family to join the guild. The Bosmer had even been engaged before leaving his homeland, though he muttered something about the woman ‘not being his type.’ He said his life in Valenwood had been too boring and after his father discovered his involvement with the Silver Crescents, he left his homeland and hadn’t looked back. Now, he spent his time hunting, training guild members in archery, and doing odd jobs in other holds for the guild. The one thing he loved doing most though was camping out under Skyrim’s skies on clear nights. Apparently, the trees of Valenwood never offered a good view of the night sky and Niruin couldn’t get enough of the sight.

  
Thrynn was a bandit for three years before joining the guild, a life he said he didn’t miss. He had a falling out with the other bandits he prowled Skyrim with, but did not elaborate any further.

  
Viper the Fleet earned his nickname while on a job with Vex in Windhelm. When their client ratted them out to the city guards, he and Vex were separated and Vipir ran all the way back to Riften in order to lose them. Vex beat him back, as they had left their horses at the stable outside the city, and he returned to a very amused guild.

  
Eventually, Rune called a halt to the festivities, claiming Ildri needed her beauty rest on Brynjolf’s orders and that she needed to head back in. Vipir commented quietly, “I don’t think she really needs that much,” only to be smacked on the back of his head by both Cynric and Niruin. Laughing, the group made their way back to the cistern to hit the sack.

  
Sleeping in the cistern with the other members of the guild was a bit of an awkward affair. Ildri had to find another out of sight spot to change out of the Thieves’ Guild Armor and into something more comfortable to sleep in. Once that was done, she had to figure out how to fall asleep with torches still burning and other members snoring in their beds. Water rushed from a grate in the wall above her and splashed into the mote that ended right next to her bed, the constant sound of gushing water making her feel the need to pee constantly. Occasionally during the night, a loud grating noise of stone grinding against stone would echo in the cistern, followed by a member of the guild climbing down the ladder near the kitchen. Needless to say, sleep was hard to come by that first night in the guild.

  
She was shaken awake at some point in the morning. Ildri assumed it was still early since the light coming through the oculus was dim and gray. She groaned and pulled the blanket back over her head, ignoring the person still standing by her bed awkwardly.

  
“Ildri… Bryn’s been looking for you. He said something about training with blades…” Rune muttered, shaking her shoulder again. “Etienne made sweetrolls for everyone, this morning. I think there are a few left over in the kitchen.”

  
Ildri groaned again, swatting away Rune’s hand as she moved to sit up. “Alright, I’m up,” she mumbled, swinging her legs to the side of the bed and rubbed at her eyes. Rune chuckled as he turned away and headed over to the grindstone to sharpen one of his blades. Ildri proceeded to don her new leathers, attach her sword and scabbard to her belt, then grabbed a sweetroll on her way to the training area where Brynjolf waited.

  
“Sleeping in, Lass?” came the Nord thief’s brogue as she entered the training area from the night previous where she demonstrated her lock-picking prowess. Ildri grumbled at him as she rubbed at her eyes. Brynjolf chuckled and he stood from the barrel he had been leaning against, advancing her a few paces. “You must not be a morning person.”

  
“Not this morning, no,” Ildri replied sourly, giving the red head a blank stare. Her head felt fuzzy from the lack of sleep and the drinking from the night before and her mouth was exceptionally dry. Drowsiness clung to every fiber of her being, refusing to acknowledge that it was actually time to be up.

  
“You best wake up soon, lass. I’ll not be going easy on you,” he stated before pulling out two blades, one a dwarven dagger and one an ebony shortsword. Ildri scowled before pulling out _Dragonfang_. Flames erupted along the edge of the blade, dancing along the surface of the metal. Brynjolf’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as he gazed at the blade. “Vex wasn’t lying; that is a fine blade you have there. She said it was an heirloom?”

  
Ildri nodded, grip tightening on the hilt as she turned her body so her side faced her opponent and lifted the sword in a ready stance. Brynjolf followed her lead, lifting one blade to cross his torso and the other to extend like her sword arm was, angling his body away from her.

  
They stood still for a long moment, both eyeing the other for movement or a slip in their guard. Ildri could hear her Da speaking, as if he stood next to her, telling her to never let impatience drive her actions. It had been a hard thing to learn and she ended up in the dirt on more than one occasion. It wasn't a lesson she could easily forget, even with her impetuous nature. Those lessons turned her into the patient, cautious woman today, something that had helped her immensely as she trained in the shadowy arts and especially in the last few weeks.

  
With those words in her ears, Ildri stood still, watching Brynjolf like a hawk. She didn't know if he'd gone through similar training as she, if he was a patient man by nature or not. Given his profession, he had to possess some resolve or stillness. Thieves who could not wait or jumped too early, tended to not be thieves for long. The startling sound of a foot sliding along stone would have surprised Ildri if she hadn’t been waiting, watching for it. Brynjolf lunged forward, lightning fast and Ildri sidestepped, raising her fiery blade to deflect the attack. The blades clashed with a sharp clang of metal on metal. Brynjolf spun back toward her, dagger swinging first, followed by the sword he wielded. Ildri batted both away, steps moving her in a circle so now she was facing the doorway to the Cistern. The red-headed Nord expectedly did not give her a moment's reprieve, speed picking up as he came at her until he was a twister of sharp-edged blades. Ildri met the strikes she could with her blade and dodged the ones she couldn’t.

  
“Well, you can defend with your fancy blade. Can you attack?” Brynjolf asked teasingly, the corners of his mouth turning up.

  
“Just getting a feel for how you fight,” Ildri replied, spinning _Dragonfang_ in her hand. The flames flicked as the blade spun, sending shadows dancing on the walls. The light and shadows temporarily distracted the red-headed nord and Ildri made her move. Lunging toward him, she forced her hand forward to drive the pommel of _Dragonfang_ into his stomach. He recovered from the distraction quicker than she anticipated and batted her arm away with the flat of his blade, a smile curving the whole of his lips now. She spun toward him, burning blade twirling in the air and came down in an arc toward him. Brynjolf lifted both blades, crossed, and caught the flaming sword between them.

  
“Not bad, lass,” he stated, lowering his arms slightly and stepping toward her, almost touching her. Ildri could feel the heat radiating from him and an answering heat rise to her cheeks and mentally berated herself. Since when did she become a blushing maid in the presence of a handsome man? This was the fourth time she’d blushed because of him in less than twelve hours! And she’d promised herself last night, that she would not be the only one of the two of them blushing anymore.

  
Ildri moved closer to him, pressing her body softly against his, and noticed with satisfaction that Brynjolf’s eyes had widened slightly. “Not so bad yourself,” she said, her voice low and quiet as she moved her leg against one of his. His green eyes darted to watch her lips form those words before flicking back up to her eyes, pink beginning to color his cheeks. She smiled and in the next second, hooked her foot behind his and yanked it forward. Brynjolf lost his balance and landed on his back with her sword pointed to his chest. He gazed up at her surprised and cheeks reddened as she smiled down at him. After a moment, she replaced her blade with an offered hand and helped him stand.

  
Brynjolf only stared at her for a moment while she waited expectantly for him to find his words. “That was… impressive, lass,” he stated.

  
“Well, my Da put a sword in my hand when I was four and I’ve been training in one-handed combat since,” she replied, playful smile dancing on her lips. He nodded and sheathed his blades and she followed suit. “If I may say, I’ve never seen anyone use dual weapons quite the way you do. You move like a storm.”

  
“I didn’t start training until I was ten. I had been staying at Honeyside Orphanage but was turned out for misbehavior. There was a thief here who was a master dual bladesman that took pity on me and he started teaching me. He died not long after and Mercer picked up where he left off. He’d been trained by the same man so at least there was continuity,” he explained.

  
“What happened to him? The first man that trained you, I mean,” Ildri asked.

  
Brynjolf was quiet for a few moments, lips turning down into a scowl. He finally lifted his gaze back up to her and sighed before answering, “he was murdered.”

  
“I’m sorry,” she offered somberly and sincerely, thinking of her own family. They’d all been murdered too.

  
The Nord shrugged and moved back into a starting stance, his blades raised. “It was about twenty-five years ago, so I’ve had time to grieve.” They trained with swords for a few more hours, Ildri sweaty and tired by the time Bryn called a stop. He sheathed his blades before moving to grab a bow that had been leaning against the wall. The red-headed thief turned back to her and offered a bow. It was better than her hunting bow, but still not as heavy as her old Nordic bow. The wood was dark and on the side, the small dragon sigil of the Empire was carved. This must have been obtained from an Imperial soldier. “Now, I’m going to evaluate your marksmanship. I’ve heard you’re a good shot, but I haven’t yet seen it for myself,” Brynjolf stated, leading her over to the straw targets along the wall opposite the doorway.

  
Ildri nodded, taking an arrow from the Nord and knocking it on the bowstring. Lifting her bow and shutting her left eye, she took aim at the target across from her, pulling the bowstring taught. She held for only a second, releasing her breath along with her arrow, which found its mark with a dull thwump in the dead center of the target.  
When she turned back to Brynjolf, she noticed he had a small impressed smile on his lips, though his eyes gleamed with challenge. “What about the other three? Can you hit center on all of them and from…” he glanced around the room, then pulled her back to the opposite wall, as far from the targets as they could possibly get in the training room. “Can you hit your marks from here?”

  
Ildri only smiled, taking four arrows from the red-headed thief’s quiver. Brynjolf’s eyebrows raised at the number of arrows, probably only expecting she’d take three, but Ildri felt the need to show off. She knocked her bow, aimed and fired, four times in succession, each arrow striking their intended targets one after the other. Thwump, thwump, thwump, thwump. Together, Ildri and Brynjolf strode toward the targets and she was pleased to see each of her arrows hit dead center. The arrow she fired at the target she bulls-eyed with her first shot collided with the original arrow, splitting the shaft in two and embedded in the wood supports at the back.  
Brynjolf let out a low, impressed whistle. “Remind me not to piss you off, lass.”

  
“Noted,” Ildri replied with a self-satisfied smile.

  
“Well, I’m not sure what else I can train you in at this point with the time we have. You’re excellent at lockpicking, you’re probably as skilled with a bow as Niruin, and I know you sneak with the best of them based on your performance in the marketplace yesterday. You could use more time building your strength for swordsmanship, but that won’t happen in a few hours. Mercer expects you to be completing the Goldenglow job tonight,” he said, lips turning down into a worried frown. His gaze found hers a second later and he tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Based on what I’ve seen though, I think you just might pull it off!”

  
Ildri tried to reciprocate the smile, but knew it was tempered by her own anxiety and fatigue. As she moved to replace the bow against the wall, her stomach rumbled angrily. “Alright, if we’re finished training, I think I need to go grab myself some lunch and talk with Vex. Maybe with the time I have left this afternoon, we can come up with a plan of action.”

  
“Before you go, let me tell about the job, so you can make informed decisions regarding your plan,” he replied. Ildri turned to face him, giving him her full attention and nodded for him to continue. “Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm. They raise the wretched little things for honey, which is then used to make mead. It’s owned by Aringoth, a smart mouth Wood Elf. He hired mercenaries and sent the city guard packing then cut us out of our share. He needs to be taught a lesson. What you need to do is break into the estate, find the safe, and steal its contents. After that, burn down three of the beehives. Nothing sends a message that the guild shouldn’t be crossed better than a big pillar of smoke. Just make sure you don’t burn the whole place to the ground. Our client would be furious if that happened.”

  
“Right, it’s not good business to upset paying clients,” Ildri nodded. “What do you want me to do about Aringoth?”

  
“Maven prefers he be left alive, but if he gets in your way, kill him,” Brynjolf responded and Ildri’s stomach dropped. She was hoping not to have to deal too much with Maven Black-briar. His gaze hardened, became stern as he continued, “we’ve got a lot riding on this, Ildri. Don’t make us look foolish by mucking it up.” The young Nord nodded, feeling anxiety bubble up in her gut and form a lump in her throat. She would do her best not to let them all down, but she felt like the odds greatly stacked against her.  
Ildri found Vex in the Flagon on the deck over the circular pool, sharpening her blades. The young Nord plopped down in the seat opposite her at the table with her lunch as she greeted, “hey, Vex.”

  
“What do you want?” she asked, not looking up from her blades. She sounded sour, though Ildri couldn’t blame her. Mercer gave her the job Vex couldn’t complete. The Imperial was probably feeling pretty low as well as angry at Ildri and Mercer.

  
“I… know you had the Goldenglow job before me. I was just wondering if you had any insights that could help me… complete it,” Ildri asked, finishing lamely.

  
Vex looked up at her with a glare. “Before we get started, I want to make one thing perfectly clear with you. I’m the best infiltrator this rathole of a guild has got. If you think you’re here to replace me, you’re dead wrong,” the Imperial snarled.

  
Ildri raised her hands in surrender, surprised at the venom Vex was spewing. It wasn’t her fault Mercer decided to test her like this! She hadn’t asked to be assigned Goldenglow. Anger rose in her at Vex for blaming her at all. “Look, I have no interest in replacing anyone here. Believe me, I do not want this particular job as my first official assignment for the guild. Now, I was hoping that since you have experience with the job and give a damn about the success of the guild, you’d help me put a plan together so I can complete Goldenglow and show Mercer that I’m harder to get rid of than assigning me a task that was not meant for a new member!”

  
Vex studied her for several moments with a hard glare before her lips curved into a smile. “Alright then. Keep that fiery attitude and you’ll do just fine around here. Now, about Goldenglow. Aringoth is smarter than he lets on. Can you believe that fetcher more than tripled the guard? There must have been eight of them in there! More now, probably, since we’ve gone after him before. It’s like he’s daring us to come get him.”

  
Ildri frowned. If Aringoth hired so many extra guards, getting into the estate would be incredibly difficult. “Do you know of a way I could sneak in?”

  
Vex thought about her answer for a minute before she replied, “there’s a sewer that opens up right by the back door of the estate and dumps into the lake on the northwestern side of the island. It’s how I got in and it should still be unguarded.”

  
The Imperial woman pulled out a journal and a graphite stick, opened the book to a blank page and began to sketch a layout of the island and the estate. She and Ildri sat hunched over the drawing and discussed possible plans and pitfalls for several hours. By the time Ildri felt she had a solid plan, it was nearing dinner.

  
“You better go get some shut eye. You’ll want to have plenty of energy when you go out there tonight,” Vex stated, standing from her seat and stretching. “Good luck tonight, Ildri,” the Imperial bid. Ildri nodded and stood as well, telling Vex goodbye. She stopped by Tonilia to pick up a few bottles of invisibility potions before heading back to the Cistern to grab a little sleep.

  
Ildri woke a little while later and packed her rucksack with the items she and Vex agreed she’d need. There were three bottles of invisibility potions, four bottles of health tonic, two dozen lockpicks, and an extra quiver of arrows. The young Nord donned her weapons and armor, shouldered her bag, and made her way to the ladder leading up to the crypt behind the Temple of Mara. Rune, Niruin, Cynric, Vipir, and Etienne wished her luck on her way out, but Brynjolf was nowhere to be found. Disappointment thrummed in her, making her stomach and heart feel heavy. She had hoped he’d be there to wish her luck too.

  
“Sapphire said she’d watch for you from the docks,” Rune stated as he clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Take care, Ildri. Make us proud.”

  
“I’ll do my best,” she replied tightly, feeling anxiety grab hold of her lungs and squeeze. With that, she turned and climbed the ladder, pulling on the ring when she reached the crypt. The stone slab slid back with a loud groan, revealing the night sky outside the crypt. As she climbed the stairs, a figure moved out of the darkness and Ildri startled, hand dropping to grasp the pommel of her sword. She relaxed when she realized it was Brynjolf.

  
“Evening, lass. Didn’t think I’d let you go off to Goldenglow without wishing you luck, did you?” the red-head stated in his usual brogue that Ildri found so comforting.  
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure,” she responded. A heavy sigh escaped her, but it did little to loosen the ball of anxiety in her chest.

  
“How are you holding up, lass?” he asked tenderly.

  
“Honestly? I’m terrified I’m going to make a mess of this or worse…” she trailed off, her voice cut off by the ball of worry constricting around her lungs.

  
“Hey,” Brynjolf stated, placing his hands on her shoulders and lowering himself slightly to look her in the eyes. “I have faith in you, Ildri. I think you have the resourcefulness and tenacity to pull this off. You have a lot to prove and I believe you will one day be the very best of us.” Ildri didn’t respond, too stunned by his words to formulate any of her own. He sighed and straightened, but his gaze never left hers. “But, I want you to promise me something. If you get overwhelmed or the odds are worse than we believed, promise me you will get out of there, completed job or not. Understand?”

  
Ildri could only nod. Satisfied, Brynjolf stepped back, hands leaving their perch on her shoulders. Even though he’d removed his hands, Ildri swore she could still feel their warmth there, even through her armor. Suddenly, she wished he’d hugged her rather than kept his distance. So, instead of letting him retreat fully, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him. He was rigid at first before his arms wound there way around her back and pressed her more firmly to him, his head dropping to rest beside hers. “Thank you, Bryn, for everything you’ve done for me since I got here. It’s really meant a lot to me,” she said quietly, finally feeling some of her anxiety slip away the longer he held her.

  
“Anytime, lass,” he replied just as quiet, voice a little rough.

  
After a moment, they parted. “Good luck, Ildri. Shadows hide you,” Brynjolf stated and Ildri moved away, feeling lighter than she had all day. It was time to face Goldenglow.

**

  
Ildri had expected a certain level of chaos and difficulty with the Goldenglow job. What she hadn’t expected was for everything to go to Oblivion in a handbasket as soon as she exited the estate.

  
The sewer entrance that Vex told her about had worked perfectly to get her inside without being detected. Moving through the estate had been more challenging but Ildri managed to get through it, with the help of one of the invisibility potions she’d brought along. There were way more than eight mercenaries inside the building. To make matters more difficult, the safe was an expert lock and she was unsure she’d have enough picks to get through it since she lost several picks trying to get in through the expert lock into the estate. So, she had to use another invisibility potion to sneak up to Aringoth’s room to get his keys. The Wood Elf was sleeping soundly, so Ildri made sure to stay light-footed so she wouldn’t wake him and picked his pocket for his safe key. While she was up there, she found a beautiful golden statue of a bee that she nabbed, thinking Delvin would find it interesting. She remembered him mentioning a couple of times at dinner before she joined the guild that he liked to collect unique items.

  
She made it back to the safe almost without a hitch (she had to dive behind doors or large furniture to dodge a roaming guard or two on duty). She didn’t want to use her last invisibility potion until she got outside, so she could get to the beehives easily. Relief coursed through her when she finally made it back to the safe and opened its heavy door. Inside, she found a bill of sale with a strange symbol at the bottom of the page and a sack of gold, both of which she pocketed. There was an exit just across from the safe that led back to the sewers. As soon as she opened the grate covering the exit to the outside at the back of the estate, all Oblivion broke loose.

  
A powerful roar reverberated off the mountains around them, so loud Ildri couldn’t tell what kind of creature it belonged to, where it was coming from, or how far away it was. Quickly, Ildri scuttled to a bush to hide and catch her bearings, fishing in her bag for her last invisibility potion. A rhythmic beating vibrated the air and suddenly, Ildri saw it. A great black shadow moving against the starry night sky. The wings beating at the beast's side were as long as its body. It soared over Goldenglow, slowing above the building and beating its wings to stay in the air.

  
“ **Dir joor! Daal wah Sovngarde kolos Zu'u fen velaaz nau hin sil!** ” its heavy voice thundered and Ildri felt herself shudder. The beast could talk! Then it opened its maw and a stream of white hot fire burst forth following the words “ **YOL TOR SHUUL** ” shouted like a thunderclap. The light from the fire illuminated everything. The beast raining a blaze down on Goldenglow was jet black and huge. Its head was massive and crowned with large, scary curved horns. Red eyes glowed in the beast's face, but Ildri could see its delight as it sowed destruction. It looked like a dragon, but didn't they all die out thousands of years ago? The mercenaries ran about the island with weapons drawn, attempting to shoot the dragon, but they didn't seem to be doing any damage. Screaming rent the air as men burned alive.

  
The stream of fire paused as the dragon moved back into a glide, the roar he let loose sounding more like daedric laughter. He soared in a circle around the estate and unleashed another torrent of fiery fury as he made another pass over the estate. The dragon performed another loop around the island, only this time his fiery stream was coming right for her.

  
“Oh gods,” she breathed feeling adrenaline kick into overdrive as she watched the dragon. She had to wait for him to get closer or risk jumping into a stream of fire if the beast decided to swerve off his path. Once she could feel the heat of the dragon's flame, she leapt from her hiding place and rolled along the ground, attempting to get as far away from the fire as she could. When she came to a halt, she was several feet away from the bush that had been her refuge which was consumed by fire. She’d somehow managed to get away with only a singed shoulder and a few scratches on her face and hands. Now though, she was out in the open -- an easy target.

  
Quickly, Ildri leapt to her feet and made a mad dash toward where the beehives were. She wasn’t sure this was the best idea, trying to complete the mission, as the dragon was doing plenty of burning without her help, but fear of Maven Blackbriar’s reprisal drove her through the chaos surrounded by the screams of burning and dying mercenaries. She had to know if the hives were still standing. If they were burnt… she didn’t want to think about what Maven would do. Nothing pleasant, that’s for sure.

  
The beast made another pass over the island and Ildri hit the ground, avoiding being crisped by inches. As soon as the dragon flew over, Ildri was back on her feet and sprinting toward the hives. The smoke and her pace made breathing near impossible and her eyes were watering, making it more difficult to see through the haze. She barely managed to leap over a burnt corpse when she made it to the bridge, but could not slow her pace.

  
The island where the beehives were kept was also consumed by fire. Ildri’s heart sank, knowing that there was no way the hives had survived, even though she couldn’t see through the smoke.

  
Suddenly, a gust of wind caused by the heavy beating of wings blew the smoke away from the island and revealed Ildri to the monster. She whipped around, grey eyes widening and panic seizing her insides when she came face to face with the great black dragon, red eyes glowing and gazing at her with keen interest. He studied her intently for a moment before uttering, “ **Ful, Dovahkiin lost alok wah kriz zey?** ” A deep chuckle rose from his chest, blowing hot air on her face and whipping her hair back. “ **Hi dreh ni fon med pogaas, Dovahkiin. Faal Rah vis ni kos graav** ,” the dragon continued, beginning to circle Ildri, who turned with him, not letting her back face the monster. When he finally stopped circling, a smile curved across his mouth, showing off several long, sharp, glinting teeth. “ **Nid trun, hi fen dir med praan** ,” he rumbled before rearing his head back and snapping at her like a snake. Ildri shrieked and dove away, the snap of his jaws causing a loud clap of sound as they closed against the air.

  
Ildri leapt back to her feet, sprinting as fast as she could toward the lake surrounding the island, hoping to somehow make a getaway. Out of nowhere, she was hit in the side by a large, black, swift object and flung toward the wall behind the burning hives. Her head collided with a sharp thwap against the smoldering wood barrier and she crumbled to the ground. Dazed, all Ildri was aware of was the pounding in her head, the dragon approaching the hives and moving to bat them away, and finally the dreadful knowledge that this beast was going to kill her. Unbidden, Brynjolf’s voice rose in her head and repeated ‘promise me’ earnestly, sounding just as he had when he’d seen her off before the job. She’d made a promise to him that she’d make it back. That promise hadn’t been made lightly and she wasn’t about to break it.

  
With determination, Ildri shoved her hand into her pack and grasped the necks of two potion bottles. Hoping one of them was her last invisibility potion, she yanked them both out, unstoppered them, and chugged them both at the same time. The pounding in her head subsided to a dull throb almost immediately and Ildri jumped to her feet once again, shaking off the lingering dizziness. One glance at her hand quickly told her that the other bottle had in fact been her last invisibility potion and with a relieved smile, she took off running again toward the water, not hesitating to leap in and swim. The sound of the dragon’s angry roar at finding her gone warbled as she swam under the water and put some distance between her and Goldenglow.

Dovahzul translation:  
 **Dir joor! Daal wah Sovngarde kolos Zu'u fen velaaz nau hin sil! :** Die mortals! Return to Sovngarde where I will feast on your souls!  
 **Ful, Dovahkiin lost alok wah kriz zey? :** So, a Dragonborn has risen to oppose me?  
 **Hi dreh ni fon med pogaas, Dovahkiin. Faal Rah vis ni kos graav. :** You do not seem like much, Dragonborn. The Gods can not be serious.  
 **Nid trun, hi fen dir med praan. :** No matter, you will die like the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never did make sense to me why you are assigned such a big job so early in your thief career. So, my reasoning behind Mercer's decision is that he has it out for her either because she is a recruit of Brynjolf's and he doesn't want to waste more time and resources or he feels a 'change in the wind' so to speak. Either way, Mercer gives Ildri this task with the hope that she dies.  
> Also, the dragon attacking Goldenglow? That happened to me in the game. Everyone was pissed when I got back to the Flagon because all the beehives were burned down. I figured if I ever wrote a Skyrim story, it had to make it in.  
> As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! Don't forget to comment, leave kudos, or bookmark if you want to keep up with the story!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ildri faces punishment for the burning of Goldenglow and is sent to Whiterun as a last chance for her to stay in the guild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the Elderscrolls. Without further ado, here is Chapter 4!

Chapter 4

Ildri couldn't remember the last time she had hurt this much. There was that time when she was sixteen and she misjudged the distance between the roof of a house and the border wall surrounding Bruma and fell, breaking her arm in three places. Even with her mother's healing magic it had taken several weeks for the bones to fully heal and for the pain to subside. That had only hurt in one place though. Now she hurt just about all over. Breathing was difficult and there was a pounding in her head that beat in time with her pulse. Her shoulder stung something fierce under her armor, probably burned from the dragon's flame. That health tonic she swallowed had not lasted very long.

  
After diving into the lake, she stayed under the water for as long as her lungs would allow her to, trying to put as much distance between her and Goldenglow as possible. She finally came up for air on the other side of the bridge leading to the island from the surrounding shore. Exhaustion threatened to overcome her before she could make it out of the water so she made a beeline to the closest outcropping of land, collapsing on dry dirt as soon as she was able. She flopped over to gaze back at Goldenglow, watching the fires burn and the dragon fly off to the east with another angry roar, before she passed out.

  
When she came to, the sky was just beginning to lighten with the rising sun in the east though it still must have been very early. Goldenglow was still smoldering, the estate almost completely razed. Maven was going to be pissed.

  
Groaning, she moved to sit up, keeping her motions slow. Her head was still throbbing, world tilting on its axis slightly, and when she lifted her hand to examine the source of pain, she found a sizable lump there crusted with sticky, dried blood if the reddish brown flakes her hand came away with were anything to go by. It still hurt to breathe, pain shot up and down her right side. She must have broken a rib or two. Nausea churned in her stomach, probably in response to the pain pounding away in her head. The injuries to her head and side had to have been caused by the dragon smacking her, with what she assumed had to have been his tail, into the wall behind the hives. She would need a healer to see to these injuries, the health tonics she had would only take some of the pain away.  
Before she stood, she drank down another tonic, relieved to feel the pain and nausea ebb slightly. Before she could go to a healer, she had to make it back to the guild, give them the contents of Aringoth's safe. They had to know that he'd sold Maven's honey farm.

  
She made it back to the road, stumbling and dizzy, but as fast as her feet could carry her in her state. When she turned toward Riften and began to move, footsteps sounded on the cobblestones behind her. She froze, one hand moving to hover over her sword and the other over her bow and quiver. Even with her weapons, she would not be able to defend herself in her sorry state.  
“Gods! Ildri, you're alive!”

  
Ildri turned slowly, surprise etched onto her features as she observed Sapphire sprinting toward her. As the Nord woman got closer and could see the extent of Ildri's injuries, her blue eyes widened. “Hey, Sapphire. Fancy seeing you here,” Ildri replied, letting herself sag a little in relief, wobbling unsteadily.

  
“Stendarr have mercy, you look terrible! Come on, let’s get you back to the guild and seen to,” Sapphire rushed, moving to Ildri’s side and wrapping a hand around her waist to help support her.  
“You’re being so nice, what changed?” Ildri asked as she lifted her arm around Sapphire’s shoulder, leaning heavily against the woman. Her earlier nausea bubbled back up as they began to move toward Riften.

  
“I told you, I’d watch your progress from the docks. I saw everything that happened,” she replied as her worried blue eyes studied the younger woman warily. “If you throw up on me, I’ll drop you,” she added, voice tight.

  
Ildri chuckled which caused her hurt ribs to throb painfully. “Ugh, don’t make me laugh,” she groaned, free hand moving to hold her side.

  
“So, how did you get away? No one else survived,” Sapphire asked.

  
“I used my last invisibility potion. Thank the Divines I thought to save it in case I would need it,” Ildri answered, voice strained around the pain in her ribs. She knew the health tonic was weak, but she thought it would have lasted longer. Maybe her laugh aggravated it?

  
“How much of the job were you able to complete before…?”

  
“Everything but burn the beehives… the dragon did that for me, I guess,” Ildri stated, grimacing. “How mad do you think Maven is going to be?”

  
Sapphire huffed, either out of exertion or annoyance, Ildri wasn’t sure. “Pissed, probably, but when she hears what happened… well I won’t let her blame you.” Warmth blossomed in Ildri’s chest, relieved someone would stand up for her. First, Brynjolf and Vex, now Sapphire, which was still unexpected to Ildri. She hummed in reply, exhaustion making her drowsy, her feet dragging as she put one in front of the other. They walked in silence for a while longer, Riften’s western gate coming into view. Black was starting to encroach on the edges of her vision, the pressure in her head increasing from a dull throb to a steady pounding as they continued on their way. She felt Sapphire grip her tighter around the waist and attempt to lift her up a little. Was she falling? She wasn’t sure, her head was suddenly feeling foggy. Faintly, she was aware of someone talking to her, but she wasn’t sure what was being said or by whom. She blinked, trying to clear her dimming vision, but it only continued to get darker, when suddenly, her head hit the ground and she was aware no more.

**

  
After Ildri left the crypt, Brynjolf headed back inside the cistern to hopefully catch some shut eye. He grabbed a bottle of mead on the way to his room, believing the alcohol would help to numb the worry he had for Ildri. There wasn’t anything he could do for her now and staying awake and sober would just make the uneasiness worse. So, he drank several gulpfuls from the bottle after removing his armor and flopped on his bed. Even with the help of the booze, it took him a little while to quiet his mind enough for sleep.

  
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep but he was rudely jostled awake by sharp banging on his door.

  
“Brynjolf! Get up, NOW!” Mercer roared through the door, hand still rapping hard on the wooden surface. Groaning, the red-head rolled out of bed and slipped his armor back on as quickly as he could. Practiced fingers made short work of the numerous buckles so he was able to open the door before Mercer could make any more racket. “Finally,” the old Breton groused. “Looks like your protege has really made a mess of things, Brynjolf.” The guildmaster turned away from the door sharply and marched down the hallway toward the cistern, not caring to glance over his shoulder to see if his second-in-command was following.

  
Ignoring the inflection Mercer had put on the words ‘your protege,’ Brynjolf caught up to the old thief and fell into step beside him. “What happened?” he asked, dread forming in the pit of his stomach.  
“Goldenglow is nothing more than a smoldering ruin and your new recruit is in the wind. Maven is furious,” Mercer bit, scowl curling the old man’s lips down. The way he kept emphasizing ‘your’ made Brynjolf uneasy, like the old Breton was trying to blame him for the failure at Goldenglow or that his recruitment of Ildri was somehow to blame.

  
“Has Maven threatened to cut us off?” he demanded.

  
“No, but she wants the one responsible punished,” Mercer answered, tone uneven with his own fury. They turned a corner into the Cistern and Brynjolf was surprised to see Maven standing at the center. She never came down here, they always had to meet her at the Bee and Barb! The entirety of the cistern had been cleared of its inhabitants and Brynjolf wasn't sure that bode well. Vex and Delvin weren't even present. Mercer’s earlier description of the woman’s state was grossly underestimated. The woman was more than furious.

  
“Brynjolf,” she stated, her tone hard and cold, like the ice that formed in the deepest winter months. “I’m sure Mercer has informed you, so I won’t waste my time on the details. Since it was your recruit that was assigned the job at Goldenglow and oversaw its destruction, you have two choices: you can go out there and look for your recruit so she can face punishment for the destruction of my property or you can take her punishment in her place.”

  
A scowl formed on Brynjolf’s face as his confused, worried gazed turned into a full on defensive, angry glare. “What exactly happened? All I know is that Goldenglow is destroyed and that Ildri has not returned. Have either of you even been out there to look for her?” he demanded, voice lowering to a low growl.

  
“Maul returned from the estate an hour ago and reported only finding dead bodies. The only thief out there was searching the ruins of the estate for your compatriot, albeit unsuccessfully,” Maven replied disdainfully, venom seemingly dripping from her word.

  
“It’s been hours, Brynjolf. I don’t have time to play favorites. If she was going to return, she would have by now. Probably hiding away somewhere, the coward,” Mercer grumped and Brynjolf spun toward him, anger morphing to rage.

  
“You do not get to call Ildri a coward! You assigned an impossible task to an untested new member and put the wellbeing of the guild on the line!” the red-head shouted, temper getting the better of him, though he had no desire to reign it in. They were wrong. Ildri was not a coward and she was definitely not hiding. In the time he’d known her, the lass had not shied away from a challenge. She was a fighter and had a fiery, passionate spirit. No, if it had been hours and she had not returned… then something had happened to her. Resolved, he sent one last disgusted glare at Mercer and Maven before spinning on his heel and marching toward the ladder leading up to the crypt.

  
“Where in Oblivion do you think you’re going?!” Mercer roared, taking a few steps after him.

  
Brynjolf whirled back toward them, responding angrily, “I’m going to find her since neither of you have bothered. And when we get back, we’re going to sit and listen to what actually happened before you jump to conclusions.” As he turned back toward the ladder leading out of the cistern, a grating noise sounded that made him pause. Someone had activated the secret entrance.

  
A moment later, the hatch at the top of the ladder was pulled away and Sapphire's voice called down desperately, “could someone lend me a hand?! She's really heavy!”

  
Brynjolf rushed to aid Sapphire as the woman attempted to lower herself and a very unconscious Ildri down the ladder into the cistern. “What happened?” he asked, lifting Ildri from Sapphire’s shoulders and gently laying her on the ground so he was able to get a better grip on the young woman. The Nord woman rushed to answer, describing how she found Ildri on the road back to Riften not far from the estate as he lifted said unconscious woman into his arms once again, cradling her head against his chest. Mercer and Maven had made their way over to them, both observing quietly for now as they listened to Sapphire but Brynjolf knew they were burning with questions -- or requests to have Ildri punished when she came to.

  
“I think she may have a concussion,” Sapphire stated, helping him settle Ildri onto her bed. Brynjolf took one look at the injury on the left side of Ildri’s head and nodded an affirmative. There were scratches across her face, but they would not have caused the amount of blood dried on the side of her head. She had to have been hit very hard.

  
“She needs a healer. Sapphire, can you run get Ingun?” he asked, eyes not leaving Ildri’s still, pale form. When he didn’t hear Sapphire move, he looked up at her in consternation, but the Nord woman was scowling at him, her gaze occasionally flicking to Mercer and Maven.

  
“I’m not leaving until I have the chance to explain what I saw happen at the estate. Send someone else to get Ingun,” she stated. Brynjolf growled, loathe to part with Ildri, but he nodded once and turned to rush toward the Flagon. When he reached the door, he yanked it open and called, “Vex! Delvin! Come quick!” Then he turned back toward the cistern and returned to Ildri’s side. Sapphire was stony faced, her mouth firmly shut.

  
“For the last time, Sapphire, what the hell happened? You said yourself you saw everything,” Mercer growled. He was standing very close to the woman, almost towering over her and obviously attempting to intimidate her, but Sapphire stood her ground.

  
“I’m waiting for Brynjolf,” she hissed in reply.

  
“Well, I’m here,” Brynjolf stated as he rejoined the group.

  
Sapphire turned toward him, seemingly ignoring both Maven and Mercer -- whose jaw clenched so hard, Brynjolf could hear his teeth grinding. One of Maven’s thin arched eyebrows rose to her hairline at being ignored. Sapphire opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the door to the Flagon banged open and more than two pairs of footprints pounded into the cistern.

  
“What’s going on?”

  
“Is Ildri back?”

  
“How did the job go?”

  
Three voices asked at once and Brynjolf was able to pick out Etienne, Rune, and Vipir. The red head turned to look at the group, noticing Niruin and Cynric behind the aforementioned thieves, Vex and Delvin shoving their way through them to the front. They all stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Ildri lying listless on her bed.

  
“I need one of you to fetch Ingun. Tell her to bring her strongest healing poultices and whatever else she needs for treating wounds,” Brynjolf ordered. Etienne quickly volunteered by scampering up the ladder without giving anyone else the chance to reply or calling so much as a ‘be right back.’ Sighing, Brynjolf turned to Sapphire, looking at her expectantly.

  
“You all know I stood on the docks to watch Goldenglow, mostly to make sure an alarm wasn't raised,” she started glancing at the men behind Vex and Delvin. They nodded or grunted in agreement and Sapphire continued, “She had been gone about two hours. I’m not sure how far into the job she was, but it was then that… well Ildri didn’t cause the damage to Goldenglow.”

  
“Then who burned my honey farm to the ground?” Maven demanded.

  
Sapphire clenched her jaw, then turned to look directly at Maven. “It was destroyed by a dragon.”

  
A harsh bark of laughter escaped the matriarch of the Blackbriar family. She looked incredulously at Sapphire as she exclaimed derisively, “oh please! If I wanted to hear wild tales I'd hire a bard.”  
Sapphire turned back to Brynjolf, looking him in the eye before switching her gaze to Delvin then Vex. “You three know how I operate. Would I lie about something like this?”  
Brynjolf frowned, uncertain. No, Sapphire was very straight forward when she reported on jobs, but a dragon? That was pretty out there.

  
“Not usually, Sapphire, but a dragon?” Vex stated, voicing his own thoughts.

  
Sapphire’s gaze hardened as she declared vehemently, “it’s the truth.”

  
“Outlandish is what is. You’re just protecting the new recruit! We should kick you out with her,” Mercer growled.

  
“Oi! If she says that’s what she saw, then that’s what she saw! You’re going to question the account of an eyewitness just because you don’t believe her? This is Skyrim, weirder things have happened here than dragons!” Vipir exclaimed. He moved forward, giving Ildri a once over before indicating Ildri’s left shoulder and continuing, “besides, look at Ildri’s shoulder. The armor is scorched. Do you think she would have done that to herself?”

  
“Her magic could have gotten out of control --” Mercer started but Vex cut him off.

  
“I’ve seen her use destructive spells in the middle of combat when we cleared Fort Greenwall together. She never lost control of her fire, even when she was outnumbered, and was also careful not to hit me with it. Ildri has had magical training, maybe not as extensively as her weapons training, but enough that she wouldn’t lose control like that,” Vex argued.

  
“Then she did it on purpose so we would believe Sapphire’s story and she’s the only one to survive the fire at Goldenglow. It’s all very suspect,” Mercer growled.

  
Brynjolf shook his head. It sounded like Mercer had made up his mind, but the guild -- at least -- was against him in this decision. He looked back up at Sapphire and asked, “did she tell you what she was able to accomplish before… the dragon?” It sounded so weird to ask.

  
“Yes, she said she finished everything but burn the bee hives before the dragon showed up,” Sapphire answered and relief coursed through him. She finished the most important part, to be honest.  
“There will be an investigation. Surely some other guards witnessed the event. It would have been hard not to up on the surface. If what Sapphire claims is true, then we will vote whether Ildri will stay and receive her payment or leave,” he offered, attempting to be impartial. This was probably the first time the senior officers of the guild disagreed so openly with Mercer in front of the guild but if Sapphire’s story was true, they couldn't place blame at Ildri's feet. It wouldn't be fair. That and… well Mercer had made a comment about favorites earlier. He’d been too angry when it was said to respond to it, but he didn’t want Mercer to think his concern for Ildri’s success meant favoritism. The old Breton glared back before grumbling something unintelligible and turning on his heel, marching off toward his desk.

  
Maven sniffed disdainfully, eyeing Ildri’s form on the bed. Her ever present sneer did not move or change as she studied the young woman. Finally, she glanced at Brynjolf and said, “I will give her one more chance. If she fails, then you both will be removed from the guild, no questions or arguments. Understood?” Brynjolf nodded in response. Honestly, he was surprised she was offering anything like that. He thought he would have to argue with her to keep Ildri around to redeem herself. “Good, send her to me when she’s recovered,” the matriarch of the Blackbriars ordered before turning and heading toward the exit, head held high.

  
A groan from the bed silenced any further conversation and all eyes fell to Ildri’s form. A grimace marred the features of her face before one eye blinked open. “Weream I…?” she mumbled, words slurring together. She moved to sit up, eyes still blinking and looking around in confusion, before she gasped and flopped back down to the bed, left arm grasping her right side.  
“Lass?” Brynjolf asked worriedly as he knelt on the ground next her bed. He didn’t know what else to say. She was obviously in pain so asking if she was ok would have been stupid. “You’re in the cistern, lass,” he offered, deciding it would just be better to answer her question. She seemed a bit confused.

  
Her eyes blinked open again, her steel grey gaze snapping around the room in confusion before landing on him. “Bryn…?” she muttered, breathing shallowly and still holding her side.  
“Aye, lass. Sapphire brought you back to us,” he answered.

  
At that moment, the grating of the crypt at the secret entrance echoed throughout the cistern. Etienne appeared a moment later, followed by a tall Nord woman. She had dark brown hair, pale skin, and pale colored eyes like her mother but that was where the similarities between Maven and Ingun ended. Ingun had softer features, kinder eyes, and a sweet disposition. Now though, her eyes held a sharpness to them as she marched to Ildri's bedside with a bag clutched in her hand.

  
“Good morning, Ildri. How are you feeling?” she asked, sharp eyes sweeping over the injured woman, evaluating what exactly she would need to do.

  
“Who--” Ildri asked, still very confused.

  
“My name is Ingun. We met last week, when you came to the apothecary to purchase health potions for your trip to Shor's Stone, for Balimund,” Ingun offered patiently, turned and rummaged through her bag. Brynjolf could hear her muttering to herself about memory loss and a head wound.

  
“We think she's concussed and she only just woke up, so we're not sure what other ailments she might have,” Brynjolf contributed.

  
“Hmmm yes, I thought as much. Amnesia, losing conscious, and that head injury would all point to a concussion. Does anyone know of any other symptoms she exhibited?” Ingun requested, bringing out a mortar and pestle along with several different herbs from her bag. Brynjolf recognized the blue mountain flower and the butterfly wing but the others were new to him.

  
“She seemed dizzy when I found her, stumbling over her steps. And nauseous,” Sapphire added. Ingun nodded and reached back into her bag for new herbs before adding pinches of each into the mortar and grinding them into a fine powder with the pestle. Then she added a pinch of the powder to a vial she pulled out of her bag, stopped it, and shook it to thoroughly mix the contents.  
“I'm right here…” Ildri grumbled.

  
“Of course, my apologies. Ildri, dear, I need you to swallow this,” Ingun ordered gently, offering the small vial to Ildri. The young thief nodded slightly in acquiescence before drinking the concoction in the vial. She coughed, a hand snapping up to cover her mouth, but the medicine stayed down. With a pained groan, she lay back against her bed. “That potion should take a few minutes to take effect, Ildri. Can you tell me what happened and if you have other injuries?” Ingun inquired.

  
“I’m not sure you’ll believe me...” Ildri started and Ingun exhaled a breath, looking at the young Nord thief pointedly. Ildri shrugged but continued, “I was attacked by a dragon.”

  
“A dra -- you were at Goldenglow?!” Ingun gasped in surprise. Brynjolf felt his spine stiffen and straighten, surprised that Ingun had guessed that much at all.

  
“How do you know that’s where she was?!” Vex demanded.

  
Ingun’s blue-eyed gaze snapped up to the Imperial woman, then around at the equally surprised and mildly threatened members of the Thieves Guild. Maven’s assignments for the guild were supposed to be kept secret, the tie between the two supposed to be unknown -- even to her own family. Ingun was only connected to them because she was a healer and they knew her to keep the secrets of her patients.

  
“The dragon attack at Goldenglow is all anyone in Riften can talk about. The guards have been in a frenzy all morning! How have you all not heard about it?” Ingun asked. Sapphire looked pointedly at Brynjolf and waved her hand, as if to express ‘that’s exactly what I was trying to say.’

  
The master thief glanced over at the Guildmaster’s desk, where Mercer was hunched over. There was no way he hadn’t heard what Ingun had said but his reaction didn’t seem positive to the news. He glared at the ledger on the desk in front of him, scowl deepening and hands fisting on the wooden surface. Angrily, he shoved himself away from his desk and stomped toward the ladder, growling something that sounded like ‘of fucking course,’ under his breath.

  
Ildri’s gaze followed Mercer’s path out of the cistern bewildered before she asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

**

The dizziness and nausea faded after a full day and night of rest and a steady potion regimen. Ingun had been very specific how much of the poultices Ildri was to take and how many times a day. The morning after her rest, Ildri woke feeling better than she had in days. Though dread quickly settled in her stomach when she remembered Brynjolf’s words from the last time she was conscious. Maven expected her at her earliest convenience. He had reassured her that he wouldn't notify Maven until she was healthy enough, until she'd had a few more days to rest. That had been three days ago. She noticed he'd avoided her after that and so she spent half her time worrying about Maven and the other half about why Brynjolf didn't want to be in the same room as her.

  
However, Brynjolf stopped her this morning on her way to the small kitchen where she planned to eat breakfast and quickly snatched her appetite away. “Maven is ready to see you. She'll be at the Bee and Barb up the stairs. Don't keep her waiting, lass,” he said gravely.

  
Now, she found herself standing outside of the Bee and Barb, hand hovering over the door knob. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours, but it felt like a long time. Finally, she exhaled and grabbed the knob firmly, pulling the door open and entering the tavern.

  
It was dim inside and a little smoky from the candles still burning. The sun did its best to break through the windows and light the room, but the curtains had been drawn. Only Keerava was present in the room, standing behind the bar and wiping a counter. She glanced up at her, a worried and quizzical look distorting her reptilian features. Ildri only waved at her and moved toward the stairs, desperately trying not to let the unease she felt at the empty tavern consume her being. There should be people down here eating breakfast! Where was everyone?

  
She tried not to climb the stairs slowly but just could not help it. Thoughts raced through her mind about what could happen to her when she reached the landing. Why would Maven need to clear the building? What was she planning?

  
When Ildri reached the landing of the second floor, she took a deep breath and schooled her features. She did not want to appear afraid or weak in front of Maven. Nodding to herself, she finally felt confident enough to face whatever Maven had in store for her. Turning to her right, she almost immediately ran into Maul.

  
He looked down at her, an amused expression danced across his features before they settled back into his intimidating frown. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

  
“I -- sorry…” she trailed off lamely. Maul only grunted a laugh as he stepped aside, hand outstretched and indicating where Maven Blackbriar waited. Ildri swallowed her nerves and made her way toward where Maven waited, sitting at a table with her back to the room. She stood in the space behind the woman for several moments, unsure whether she should announce herself or wait for the matriarch to acknowledge her. The matriarch of the Blackbriar family did not look up, only continued to scribble notes across the parchment on the table in front of her. Finally, the other woman turned, icy gaze landing on Ildri. She arched one slim dark eyebrow as she eyed her up and down.

  
“I must admit, I was hoping you’d be more impressive-looking awake than when you were dragged into the cistern unconscious, but it seems miracles are lacking,” Maven said, her eyes finally resting on Ildri’s face. Red blossomed along Ildri’s cheeks, rage blooming in her chest. It took every fiber of her being -- as well as seriously grinded teeth -- to keep her from lashing out at Maven.

  
“How about we skip the conversation. What do you want?” Ildri growled through clenched jaws, hands fisting at her sides.

  
Maven looked surprised -- and maybe even impressed? -- for a brief moment before she schooled her features back to her usual look of impassive disdain. “Well you’re a firebrand, aren’t you?” A small smirk spread across her lips and she turned slightly toward the table behind her, hand lingering over the table. “It’s about time Brynjolf recruited someone with some business sense. The recruits he usually sends me want to blather on and not get right down to the matter at hand. I was beginning to worry he was running some sort of beggars’ guild over there.”

  
Somehow, more rage bubbled in Ildri’s gut at the comment. “You have no faith in the guild? Why do you keep hiring us then?”

  
“Faith?” Maven asked, disbelief coloring her voice and eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. A short laugh escaped her mouth before she continued. “I don’t have faith in anyone. All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done and was it done correctly, there is no gray area.”

  
Ildri’s jaw remained clenched, but she forced air to exhale out her nose noisily. She didn’t come here for a lecture and didn’t the woman just preach about how she valued people who didn’t waste time talking endlessly instead of getting to work? “What do you want me to do?”

  
Maven nodded slightly and turned to face her fully once again. “I have a competitor called Honningbrew Meadery that I want to put out of business. I also want to know how they managed to get the place up and running so quickly. What you need to do is head to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun and speak to Mallus Maccius. He’ll fill you in on all the details.”

  
“I’ll see it done,” Ildri replied, tone low and angry as she turned away.

  
“One more time, in case I wasn’t clear. This is an important job. I’m sure Brynjolf filled you in on the consequences if you muck it up, but if you fail, you will be sorry,” Maven growled before nodding her head sharply to someone behind Ildri. A large hand fell onto Ildri’s shoulder and tugged her toward the stairs.

  
“Let go of me, Maul,” she hissed, attempting to shrug out of the big Nord’s grip but to no avail. The man walked her right out of the inn.

  
“Listen,” he started in a rumbling growl, dark eyes serious as he pulled her to a stop in front of him just outside the doors of the Bee and Barb. “Maven doesn’t give second chances often. Consider yourself lucky, but don’t you dare waste it.”

  
“I get it. But in order to do a job, I have to leave,” Ildri replied, glaring. Maul huffed again and released her shoulder. Ildri wasted no time turning and heading toward the secret entrance to the cistern. She figured that Maven liked jobs started as soon as they were assigned and did not want to waste a second of daylight. That, and she needed to find out where Whiterun even was and the best route to get there.

  
She was barely in the door leading to the small kitchen area by the ladder when she encountered Brynjolf. He was leaning against the wall by the table, using a knife to skin a potato.  
“How’d it go, lass?” he asked, eyes remaining on the knife and potato.

  
Ildri frowned and exhaled through her nose, trying to dislodge some of the anger still stirring in her chest. “Maven gave me a job that I better complete perfectly, ‘or else.”

  
Brynjolf nodded, pushing himself away from the wall and dropping the potato and knife on a plate sitting on the table before turning to finally look at her. “I suspected as much. Where are you headed?”

  
“Whiterun. Maven said she had a competitor she wanted put out of business,” Ildri answered.

  
“Ah, Honningbrew Meadery. I was wondering when she’d send one of us. Sabjorn, the owner of Honningbrew, was able to set it up rather quickly. That means he may have some sort of benefactor that helped him get the business going," he mused, arms folded across his chest as he explained. Finally, he looked back at her, arms falling back to his sides. "Well, I imagine you need to go get ready," his voice trailed off and he started to turn away.

  
“Wait!” This had been the first time in three days other than this morning that he’d spoken more words than ‘another time, lass,’ to her. She was about to set out on a job. She wasn’t going to leave whatever this was like that. “Look, you’ve been acting strange since I went out on the Golden Glow job. Is there something wrong?”

  
A sigh left his lips and his shoulders sagged slightly. He took a moment to respond, but he did turn back to her. His mouth opened, then closed again. It looked like he debated what words to use, what to even say, before he finally decided. “You already know there is a lot riding on this job, so I’m not sure what else to say other than do your best.”

  
“Yes, Maven insinuated that if I mess up, I’m out of the guild.” He nodded but his lips were pressed firmly shut and those green eyes would not meet hers. He was hiding something, but he obviously didn’t want to share what it was. Ildri frowned and looked to the ground, disappointed. “Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I’ll just figure out my route with Sapphire and get packed.” She took a step to the side and walked by him, into the Cistern. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she beat them back. She was not going to cry because he decided to change.

  
Ildri found Sapphire in the Flagon sitting with Rune and Vipir, each with a bowl of steaming porridge. Rune was the first to see Ildri coming from the Cistern and waved her over to their table.

  
“Ildri! It’s good to see you in one piece!” Vipir exclaimed, clapping her on the back when she took the last empty seat at the table. Sapphire rolled her eyes and frowned.

  
“How’d your meeting with Maven go?” Rune asked.

  
Ildri slumped in her chair and exhaled heavily through her nose. “Oh, you know, gave me a job to complete perfectly or else.”

  
“Yes, we assumed that much given what Maven said before you woke up,” Sapphire murmured.

  
Ildri sat up at the comment. They knew? “What… what did she say? When was this?”

  
Rune shot Sapphire a warning look which the other woman glared at. “She deserves to know Rune. We were all there and heard Maven just as well.”

  
“If Brynjolf won’t tell her -- “

  
“Tell me what?” Ildri pressed. Sapphire’s glare hardened at Rune, who glanced to Vipir for help. Vipir shook his head slightly and turned to focus on his porridge as if it was the most interesting thing in all Tamriel. Rune clenched his jaw in frustration at the other man before returning his gaze to Sapphire.

  
“Fine, tell her, but if Brynjolf finds out and gets pissed, you’re taking all the blame,” Rune grunted, resigned, and resumed eating his porridge.

  
“When I brought you back from Goldenglow, Maven, Mercer, and Brynjolf were in the Cistern. Maven and Mercer heard my account of the events, which of course weren’t believed at first. Then, Maven told Brynjolf she’d give you another chance, but that if you fail, both you and Brynjolf will be removed from the guild if we wish to keep her patronage,” Sapphire explained. Astonishment cast Ildri into shocked silence. She’d had no idea Brynjolf was in trouble because of Goldenglow as well.

  
“I… why would Brynjolf be removed? He did nothing in regard to Goldenglow,” Ildri asked after she recovered her voice.

  
“Mercer and Maven blame him because he recruited and trained you. Mercer wanted you thrown out immediately, but Maven intervened with this job,” continued Sapphire. Ildri nodded, still in a state of shock. Had that been why he’d been so distant? Why hadn’t he wanted her to know?

  
After a moment, Ildri cleared her throat and rose from the table. She had a job to get finished and now she understood what was truly at stake. This guild had been a part of Brynjolf’s life since he was barely out of childhood. While Ildri had only been a member for a few days, Brynjolf had been an integral part of the workings of the guild for twenty-five years. It was cruel to threaten him in such a way, and so she was determined to complete the job to the utmost of her ability. He would not be cast out of the only family he’d had for the majority of his life because of something completely out of his control.

  
“I guess I need to get packing,” Ildri stated, stepping away from the table. “Can either of you tell me the fastest route to Whiterun?”

**

  
When Ildri set out, the sun was still low in the sky and was beginning to get obscured by the low-hanging gray clouds coming in from the west. An early winter chill began to descend on Riften, the crisp smell of snow in the air.

  
Sapphire had helped her plan her route to Whiterun with the hope to avoid as much snow as possible. The fastest route to Whiterun was up past Ivarstead, a pass cutting through the west side of the tallest mountain in Skyrim. The only problem was the pass would be difficult to traverse on foot this time of year. The best route was to go around the mountain to the east, through an area populated by hot springs. The springs would keep the air warm enough to dispel the worst of the snow. It would make travelling by foot much easier and only take her a half day longer than the pass but without the threat of freezing to death before she could get through to Helgen. Still, her route would take her about a week on foot to reach Whiterun.

  
It had begun to snow by the time she passed Shor’s Stone at about one in the afternoon and turned back west when the road forked a few more hours down the road. Turning toward the east would have taken her toward Windhelm, according to the sign posted at the fork.

  
Not long after the fork, the sun began to set and Ildri began looking for a comfortable place to camp and set up a fire. She had donned a cloak before she left Riften and was glad for it now, but was still very cold. A campfire came into the view on the side of the road. One woman sat in front of a basic shelter made of animal skins and tended to the fire. Ildri debated for one second whether or not to continue on but the warmth of the fire called to her.

  
“Uh, hello… Do you mind if I share your fire? Only for the night of course,” Ildri asked, rubbing her hands together to create some sort of warmth in her fingers as she paused by the small camp. The woman gave her a once over before she nodded and smiled. Now that Ildri was closer and the light illuminated her, the other woman’s features came into sharper focus. She was Imperial, her skin slightly tanned and smooth with slightly sharp features. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, away from her angular face. She wore fine black leather armor, with two blades strapped at her hips and a bow and a quiver of arrows on the ground at her side. Her green eyes had a brightness to them, almost mischievous and childlike.

  
“I’m Aurelia Matus,” the other woman stated, offering her hand to shake.

  
“Ildri. Thank you so much for your hospitality. I’m kind of new to this whole travelling thing,” Ildri replied, taking the other woman’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

  
Aurelia smiled knowingly and nodded. “I guessed as much. Here’s a tip for while you’re travelling, especially in winter in Skyrim: gather twigs and sticks as much as possible while you walk so you can start a fire immediately when you make camp. Much faster and easier than having to search for kindling in the dark.”

  
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” answered Ildri with a small smile as she removed her pack and began to rummage through it for food.

  
“So, first time travelling, huh?” Aurelia asked, poking the fire with a sword.

  
“Yes, sort of. I have travelled once before, but that was more of an unplanned thing.”

  
“Where are you headed?”

  
Ildri paused, wondering how honest she needed to be but deciding to go ahead with a partial truth anyway. Remembering her first meeting with Vex, she answered, “I’m headed to Whiterun for my job. I’m supposed to pick up something for the shop I work for.” She waited for Aurelia to ask another question before deciding to inquire with one of her own. “What about you?”

  
The Imperial stoked the fire with a few more pokes before she replied, “I’m travelling from Cheydinhal, visiting family in Skyrim. Figured I’d make a stop at Whiterun before continuing on to Falkreath.”

  
“Oh, I heard Cheydinhal is beautiful! It was one of the cities in Cyrodil I always wanted to travel to,” Ildri gushed, feeling a little nostalgic. She hadn’t met anyone in the last few weeks of living in Skyrim who so recently dwelled in Cyrodil.

  
“What other cities were you interested in travelling to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  
Ildri thought for a moment before replying, “the Imperial City, obviously, since it’s the Capitol. Anvil is another one because I have never seen the ocean. Last, I think Leyawiin, even though it rains all the time there. I’ve heard the buildings are beautiful.”

  
"Not Kvatch? Most people I've met who are interested in other cities like you want to see the city that was destroyed by deadra," the imperial inquired.

  
Ildri shook her head, thinking of the scars Bruma held. She knew Kvatch had been rebuilt, but there must still have been evidence of what happened there, what almost happened to Bruma. "I was confronted with those kinds of scars plenty growing up. I don't really have a morbid curiosity to see what happens when deadra invade."

  
Aurelia raised her eyebrows, a small knowing smile spreading across her lips. “That’s a very well-informed list.”

  
A blush blossomed on Ildri’s cheeks as a leaden ball of anxiety weighed down her gut. Instead of answering the other woman, she decided to fully occupy herself with her dinner. A chuckle escaped Aurelia as she too rustled in her own pack in search of dinner, but she did not push any further.

  
After dinner, Aurelia pulled a lute from her bag, her green eyes questioning as she gazed across the fire at her guest. “Do you mind if I play for a bit? I haven’t practiced any today.”  
Ildri shook her head, relieved they didn’t have to sit in the quiet night awkwardly any longer. The Imperial woman smiled slightly and began to strum a few notes. Eventually they turned into a tune that Ildri actually recognized.

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_   
_Jenny would dance with her ghosts_   
_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_   
_And the ones who had loved her the most_   
_The ones who'd been gone for so very long_   
_She couldn't remember their names_   
_They spun her around on the damp old stones_   
_Spun away all her sorrow and pain_   
_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_   
_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

It was an old Breton melody, one Ildri had heard her mother sing once or twice before. While it was a beautiful tune, the words always left Ildri feeling sad and this time was no different.

Aurelia’s voice was beautiful, ethereal… but haunting. It was as if she was expressing her own feelings of loss and grief. At the same time, Ildri felt the song was about herself. A lump formed in her throat in response to the song, tears gathering in her eyes. She moved her gaze from Aurelia – who was focused only on her song – to the fire, hoping to burn away the tears that were blurring her vision. But they wouldn’t disappear, couldn’t be forced back like usual, so Ildri let them fall.

**

  
The sound of scuffing feet woke Ildri from her sleep. The sky was still slightly pink from the sunrise, just breaking through the grayness of the clouds stubbornly hanging overhead. Aurelia was already up and kicking dirt over the firepit to fully put the still-burning embers out before she turned to her shelter and began to break it down. That must have been the sound Ildri heard when she awoke. Yawning, the young Nord sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was best to use as much daylight as possible if she wanted to make it to Whiterun in a timely manner.

  
Ildri had been walking behind her new acquaintance, Aurelia Matus, for a few hours before the monotony of the morning walk was disturbed. Fog clung to the ground hours after the sun rose, blanketing the landscape in a thick cloud of gray. To Ildri’s right was the foot of the tallest mountain she had ever laid eyes on. It had started to curve away from the road several yards back, allowing more forest to take up the land as the road evened out in the basin. To her right, she could see a body of water that was slightly smaller than the lake by Riften and just beyond that, a small mining community through the trees. She could hear the pickaxes carving away at ore veins even from this far way. Up ahead, a group of soldiers came into view, blue sashes adorning their armor. Ildri recalled the Riften guards all wore purple sashes, so these soldiers must belong to another hold. As Ildri approached, she noticed a tall bear of a man wearing fine armor and an expensive black fur cloak among them. He had a severe face, lips down turned in a scowl and intense eyes. Ildri was not close enough to make out the color and did not care to find out. Aurelia and Ildri stepped to the side of the road as the group of soldiers passed, to the side of the bridge leading to the mining community.

  
A man riding a horse hard across the bridge as if he was running from the hordes of Oblivion itself broke the quiet of the morning. The soldiers shouted in alarm before diving to the sides of the road to avoid the horse’s pounding hooves, Ildri and Aurelia following suit and launching themselves toward the grass. In the next instant, Imperial soldiers burst forth from the woods on each side of the road – some from underneath the bridge leading to the mining community, surrounding the blue-sashed soldiers, Aurelia, and Ildri. Swords were released from scabbards and the sound of clashing metal and shouting rent the air. The blue sashes – having thrown themselves apart and some onto the ground in order to avoid the horse rider – were at a disadvantage almost immediately and didn’t look like they would be able to recover. The galloping horse skidded to a halt at the sudden onslaught of activity and glaring sounds, throwing the rider from its back and into the fray. The rider collided with the tall man wearing the black fur cloak and both collapsed to the ground.

  
Aurelia and Ildri sprang up from the ground and started to run. Neither of them had anything to do with this skirmish. Ildri had heard of the Civil War during her first few days in Riften. The Imperials were only fighting one group of soldiers: the Stormcloaks. The young Nord had no desire to be caught in the middle of the two warring factions despite how much her hand itched to grab her sword.  
A scream ripped its way involuntarily from Ildri’s throat when a strong hand wrapped itself around her bicep, squeezing mercilessly and halting her progress. Aurelia responded almost immediately, whipping out her swords and swiping at the man the hand belonged to.

  
“Run, Ildri!!” she shouted over the din and Ildri leapt away, spinning to see her companion engaging the soldier whose hand had been latched around the young Nord’s arm. The soldier was dressed in the Imperial regalia, red cloth and brown leather. He snarled at Aurelia, bringing his sword around in a wide arch which the Imperial woman dodged gracefully. Not one to let someone else fight her battles, Ildri yanked _Dragonfang_ out of its scabbard and joined Aurelia, who glared at her furiously as she side-stepped another sword swipe from the Imperial soldier. “I thought I told you to run!” she snarled.

  
“I’m not just going to leave you behind!” Ildri snapped back, lifted her sword hand high and brought the pommel of her flaming sword down hard on the man’s head. He crumpled to the ground, shining steel sword falling from his hand to the road with a clatter. She looked to Aurelia, a triumphant smile on her face as she exclaimed, “now, we run!” Ildri spun quickly back in the direction she needed to go toward Whiterun only to notice the combat had died down significantly. Stormcloak soldiers lay on the ground either dead, unconscious, or in the process of being bound. The large bear of a man she’d seen earlier was currently struggling against three Imperial soldiers, his mouth gagged. Imperial soldiers not occupied with securing their prisoners and checking dead Stormcloaks turned their attention to Aurelia and Ildri. Bows were trained on them with arrows drawn.

  
“Drop your weapons!” a soldier snarled, her sword raised and pointed directly at Ildri’s neck. This one was different. She wore heavy armor for one, while the rest of the soldiers wore the lighter, leather style. Her helmet was ornate with a tall fan curving down the center from front to back and made of solid steel. The little of what Ildri knew of Imperial uniforms flashed across her memory. This woman was a captain.

  
Aurelia glanced at Ildri and growled something under her breath before complying. “Look, we were only defending ourselves,” she argued as she rose her hands slightly above her head in surrender.  
The captain turned her hard glare on Aurelia before switching back to Ildri, who had still not dropped _Dragonfang_ , but it was at least lowered in a non-threatening manner. “No, you interfered in Imperial business and assaulted a soldier,” she growled.

  
“We wouldn’t have assaulted him if he hadn’t grabbed me!” Ildri snapped, hand clenching around the hilt of her sword.

  
“My soldier was apprehending a thief,” the captain retorted, hard gaze boring into Ildri. Surprise shot through the young Nord at the accusation. How had the woman known that? Her astonishment must have registered on her face because the captain snorted in derision. “You think I don’t know what that armor you’re wearing means?” she snarled, waving her sword at Ildri’s leathers. “You’re not that slick. Now, drop. Your. Weapons.”

  
Ildri hardened her own gaze, hand gripping the hilt of _Dragonfang_ even harder. “No.” The captain did not like that answer, her jaw clenching so hard Ildri could hear her teeth grinding. She did not make a move, however, much to Ildri’s confusion. Instead, her gaze flickered to something just over the young thief’s shoulder and nodded her head slightly. Before Ildri could make a single move, two soldiers grabbed her arms and forced her to the ground. Another relieved her of her weapons, taking an appraising look at _Dragonfang_ once he’d ripped it from her grasp. Panic rose in her chest when she saw the recognition of the blade flash through the soldier’s eyes.

  
“Nice sword,” the soldier holding _Dragonfang_ sneered. “Where’d you get it?”

  
Before she could reply, the soldiers holding her yanked her into a sitting position, forcing her hands behind her back painfully. She grit her teeth at the pain, cheeks flaming in anger as she growled, “my brother gave it to me. He said it was a family heirloom.”

  
“Family heirloom my ass! This isn’t any ordinary blade. No way a provincial like you could afford such fine steel. So, I’ll ask you again, thief. Where did you get it?” Now the soldier was in her face, brandishing his own sword threateningly.

  
“My answer will stay the same, Imperial,” she replied, resisting the terribly strong urge to spit in his face.

  
The soldier gave her a small smile before backhanding her. The force of the hit would have sent her colliding with the cobblestone road, but the two soldiers holding her arms kept her upright. She would definitely have hand-shaped bruises on her arms and she could already feel her cheek swelling.

  
To her left, Ildri heard Aurelia shouting curses at the soldiers followed by a scuffle. “You had no right to do that, you worthless bastard!” she screamed as a soldier pinned her to the ground. She struggled against the man, freeing one arm and elbowing him in the stomach. Another soldier jumped to help, pushing Aurelia’s head into the ground and leaning his body weight against her upper body until she stopped thrashing.

  
The soldier holding Ildri’s sword turned back to his captain, offering her the blade. “Captain, this blade… it’s _Dragonfang_ , the legendary blade forged by the Champion of Cyrodil. It was believed lost after the Champion died. It should be locked in the White Gold Tower in the Imperial City.”

  
The captain considered the blade for a moment. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Your service is greatly appreciated,” she stated to the soldier before turning her gaze on Aurelia, then Ildri disdainfully and finally landing on the soldiers holding Ildri. “Strip her,” she commanded, voice like a whip crack. “Make sure she isn’t hiding anything. Consider everything in her possession stolen.”

  
The two soldiers gripping Ildri’s arms immediately set to their task. They forced her back to the ground and attacked the buckles and clasps holding her armor together. She struggled, punching and kicking everything within reach, shouting the obligatory ‘lets me go’s and ‘get off me’s. All she got for her efforts was the pommel of a sword to her temple, knocking her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, don't forget to comment, leave kudos, and bookmark! These kinds of things let me know the story is going well or not. I CRAVE feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ildri wakes up in the back of a cart headed to Helgen.

Chapter 5

The world swayed and rocked, Ildri’s head swinging with the motion. Her neck was in agony, trying to support the dead weight of her hanging head. Furthermore, she was freezing, her arms, hands, and feet bare to the elements – which were colder than she remembered. Slowly she cracked an eye open, the midday light relatively soothing. Her head pounded, the pain originating in waves from her left temple and the whole right side of her face ached painfully.

  
The swaying Ildri was experiencing was from the wagon she was riding. It had recently snowed, the telltale crunch under the wheels of the wagon unmistakable. It must have stopped some time recently, the sun fighting to break through the clouds. A chill still clung to the air. Ildri glanced down to her lap at her bound hands, still refusing to lift her head and live through the pain of moving cramped neck muscles. The soldiers had succeeded in removing her warm leather armor and donned her in some very thin roughspun garments. At least the thin fabric offered some protection from the elements—but not much. If not for her Nord blood she would have died from exposure by now.

  
“Ugh,” she grunted when the wheel of the wagon ran over a loose stone and jostled her body, eyes squeezing shut at the pain. The muscles of her neck screamed in agony as her head bounced and she decided it was time to lift her head, at least let the rest of her spine help to support the weight.

  
“Ildri? You’re finally awake!” The voice was vaguely familiar and came from right next to her. She cracked open her eyes blearily and looked to her right. There was Aurelia, pressed next to her on the bench of the wagon, her hands bound in front of her. She was still wearing her black leather armor, however. “We thought you would be out for a while longer, what with the way they knocked you out,” she continued, relief coloring her tone.

  
“Aurelia? What… where?” Ildri grumbled confused.

  
“You both were caught in the middle of that Imperial ambush, near Dark Water Crossing,” a new, masculine voice added. Ildri slowly turned her squinty-eyed gaze to the man sitting across from her and Aurelia. He was the picture of everything Nord. His blond hair hung down to his shoulders, a few braids interspersed among the locks. His arms were thick, shoulders broad, and muscles of his arms tensing under pale skin as he pulled against the bonds around his hands. Blue eyes watched Aurelia and her with earnest concern. His features were chiseled with a straight nose, heavy brow, and firm chin. A blond beard grew around a square jaw. To top it all off, he was wearing the Stormcloak cuirass, signature blue sash wrapped around his neck and hanging off his left shoulder, tucked into his belt. “As for the where… we’re somewhere between Ivarstead and Helgen. We exited the mountain pass a little while back.”

  
Ildri’s spine straightened. “We’re out of the mountain pass? How long was I out?” It had to have been a long time based on how far away the ambush had been from Riften and now they had gone in completely the opposite direction…

  
“You were unconscious for a bit more than a day,” Aurelia replied. She bit her bottom lip as her eyes fell to the wound at Ildri’s temple. “With the way the guards treated you… I wasn’t sure how long you would be out, honestly.”

  
“Yeah, I wish I’d stayed out a while longer…” Ildri groaned, putting her head in her bound hands. “My whole head is throbbing, my neck is in agony, and I’m just shy of getting frostbite,” she grumbled.

  
“You are an idiot, Ildri. How do you not know that it’s common practice for Imperial soldiers to strip a suspected thief of virtually everything, even if it wasn’t stolen? Strutting around in that armor was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” Aurelia stated.

  
“You’re not the only one freezing,” another man growled, this one sitting to the Stormcloak soldier’s left. He was also wearing roughspun garments, his hands bound in front of him. He had curled himself into a ball and tried a few times to huddle into his bench mate’s side for warmth, only to be lightly shoved away.

  
“I guess that means they thought you were a thief then,” Ildri commented, lifting her head from her hands.

  
“Horse thief, anyway,” the soldier growled. “He was the one that came down the bridge from Dark Water Crossing.”

  
“Yeah, and I would have been halfway to Hammerfell by now if it hadn’t been for you Stormcloaks!” the man griped. He turned his vehement glare to Aurelia and Ildri and claimed, “we shouldn’t be here! This was obviously a trap set for them!”

  
“You were caught in the middle of a criminal act! Of course you should be here!” Aurelia spat.

  
“Besides, the Empire adopted the ‘guilty until proven innocent’ doctrine from the Thalmor, so ‘suspected’ is all they need apparently,” Ildri added bitterly.

  
The soldier scoffed, “It’s probably going to be more along the lines of ‘executed and never thought of again.’”

  
“What? Why?” the horse thief demanded, rounding on the soldier. The Stormcloak only nodded toward the final passenger of the wagon, sitting on Aurelia’s right side. It was the same bear of a man Ildri noticed with the Stormcloaks before. He was gagged, but his intense, intelligent eyes spoke volumes for him. He carefully studied everything and everyone around him. His gaze landed on Ildri and their eyes connected. It was easy to see the rage behind his eyes. “Who’s that?” the horse thief asked, eying the man with distaste.

  
“Have some respect! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim!” the soldier snapped.

  
The horse thief jumped and Aurelia’s and Ildri’s eyes widened in surprise. “The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re… the leader of the rebellion!”

  
The man grunted as if to say ‘obviously.’ His eyes slid shut, now seemingly trying to block out the world around him, as if it was beneath him somehow.

  
Ildri groaned, head lowering to rest in her bound hands again. “I have the worst gods damned luck. First the damn dragon almost kills me and now I’m off to the headsman block with a bunch of rebels.”

  
“Wait, a dragon?” the soldier asked incredulously.

  
Ildri lifted her head to respond, noticing Aurelia’s peaked curiosity as well. “Yeah, big black ugly monstrosity swooped down over the lake outside Riften. Destroyed a bee farm out there. I barely made it out with my skin.”

  
“Shut up back there!” one of the Imperial soldiers driving the wagon barked over his shoulder. Aurelia rolled her eyes at the man and opened her mouth to say something along the lines of ‘we weren’t talking to you,’ but Ildri wasn’t paying attention to her. Her gaze had locked on a series of stone walls at the front of the caravan of wagons. Wherever they were headed, they were about to arrive.

  
“Helgen… I was sweet on a girl from here,” the Stormcloak soldier quietly reminisced. The walls drew close, the wagons ahead of them disappearing after they went through the gate and veered to the left.

  
“General Tullius, sir!” called a voice that Ildri recognized as the Imperial soldier that took _Dragonfang_ from her. He was slightly ahead of them, trotting through the gate on a bay steed. He headed right and disappeared behind the wall, but only until the wagon Ildri was riding went through the gate as well. The soldier that took her sword was before a group of dangerous-looking individuals – the majority of which adorned in Thalmor robes. Before Ildri could let the combination of rage and fear bubbling in her gut get too high, the soldier presented the wrapped blade and scabbard to a man dressed in ornate Imperial armor, red fabric and brown leather with gold and silver metal trim and armaments. “This is the legendary blade, _Dragonfang_. It was taken out of the possession of one of the prisoners.”

  
At the mention of the blade, the Thalmor agent closest to the General startled, their head snapping up to search the wagons steadily going by. The black horse the agent was perched on stamped its foot uneasily, obviously sensing some emotion from its rider before it was urged forward, the others in the group following behind a second later. Ildri looked to the rider and noticed the elf had locked eyes on her.

  
“Ildri? What in Oblivion is that about?” Aurelia hissed, elbow digging into her side insistently. Somehow, Ildri pulled her gaze away from the Thalmor agents and Imperial soldiers following behind the wagons and to the young Imperial woman at her side.

  
“I… uh… have a complicated past with the Thalmor. It’s a long story,” Ildri replied, quietly, hands fisting in her lap so hard her knuckles turned white.

  
“I don’t think we have long enough to hear it anyway,” the Stormcloak soldier across from them muttered, looking ahead at where the other wagons had stopped. They did not speak after that, the weight of what was about to happen settling heavily on the occupants of the wagon. The derisive shouting of the townspeople of Helgen filled their quiet, most screaming ‘death to the Stormcloaks.’  
Finally, the wagon pulled to a stop with the rest in what appeared to be the town square, a headsman’s block situated with a basket in the center of the square. The wagons were unloaded, prisoner’s names called from a list by an Imperial soldier. He was unfamiliar, a Nord with brown hair and pale skin, wearing the regular red cloth and brown leather of a basic Imperial armor set. Beside him stood the captain who had led the ambush outside Dark Water Crossing. He went down the line of wagons, calling names and one by one each person moved to stand in the square. By the time he made it down to Ildri’s wagon, the Thalmor agent, General Tullius, and their entourage had made it to the square and dismounted their horses.

  
“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm,” the Imperial soldier read, voice carrying around the square. Ulfric glowered at the man before his gaze moved to Tullius, glare hardening with rage. He only held the glare for a moment before he turned away and moved toward the others.

  
“It’s been an honor, Jarl Ulfric,” the Stormcloak soldier murmured.

  
“Ralof of Riverwood,” this time, there was disdain laced with the Imperial soldier’s words. There was recognition. The blond Stormcloak soldier made eye contact with the other man before shaking his head slightly and following Ulfric. The Imperial soldier moved on calling, “Lokir of Rorikstead.”

  
“No! We’re not rebels!” the horse thief shouted before taking off. He was shot before he got around the bend in the road they had ridden in on. Aurelia sighed heavily next to her and shook her head. Now they were the last two.

  
The Imperial soldier glanced at them before looking back at the list, slightly puzzled. “Aurelia Matus,” he stated after a few moments.

  
Aurelia turned to Ildri and said quietly, “It’s been nice knowing you,” before she, too, turned toward the square and the headsman’s block.

  
Ildri watched the Imperial soldier with the list study her before glancing back at his scroll, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He turned to the captain who arrested her and said quietly, “She isn’t on the list. What do you want me to do?”

  
“Next prisoner,” she snarled. The soldier nodded and turned back to her, rolling the scroll back up.

  
“Who are you?” he asked.

  
Ildri did not have the chance to answer the man, even if she had any desire to. The Thalmor agent who’d locked eyes on her earlier moved forward. “This is Ildri of Bruma, an associate of the criminal organization known as the Blades and a fugitive of the Thalmor for over a month.” The murmur of the soldiers, prisoners, and people who had gathered to watch the executions died to almost silence. It was probably not very often that the Thalmor openly declared a person of interest. The agent moved to stand next to the captain and soldier who’d read the names, a smile on her lips. “And it looks like you’ve branched out into larceny.”

  
Ildri scowled but kept her mouth pressed firmly shut. The rage and fear had begun to boil, and she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d either sound like an idiot or prove everything the elf said was true. Not that what she said was false, but the Thalmor had a way of spinning the truth to the point that it becomes a lie.

  
The Altmer woman seemed to be waiting for her reply and when that didn’t happen, her golden eyebrows rose in surprise over her slanted golden eyes. “Nothing to say? Well, if you come with us quietly now, you will be saved from the headsman’s block. We would love to have a conversation with you,” she continued, nodding toward the other Thalmor standing behind her.

  
Ildri bit her lip hard enough to break skin to keep it from trembling, the coppery taste of blood hitting her tongue. “Is that what you said to my parents before you killed them?”

  
The elf laughed. Laughed! She stepped forward again, leaning slightly to tower over Ildri, attempting to be intimidating. The mirth in her eyes changed quickly to threatening. “If you don’t come with us now, you’ll be first at the headsman’s block.”

  
Ildri straightened her spine, stepping forward herself and getting in the elf’s face. “I guess I’ll die then because I have nothing to say to you,” she growled. The Altmer scowled, hands fisting at her sides as her eyes slanted in frustrated anger. She nodded to the Imperial soldier who read from the list, who then moved forward and grabbed her arm. He looked almost apologetic.

  
As she was pulled to join the other prisoners, a loud echoing roar bounced off the mountains surrounding the small town. Everyone looked to the sky, most questioning what that sound was, but Ildri knew that sound. She’d heard it before, the night Golden Glow was destroyed. She dug her heels into the cobble stones, causing her feet to drag across the stones and she looked to the sky.

  
“Get moving, prisoner,” the Imperial soldier said gently into her ear.

  
“No, no you don’t understand,” Ildri insisted, still digging her heels into the cobblestones to make their advance slower. He needed to listen to her! “That sound… Everyone is in danger. You need to get everyone to cover!”

  
“What are you talking about?” the soldier asked just before another roar bounced off the mountains, louder this time, closer.

  
The murmuring of the crowd got louder too, more restless. Frantic now, Ildri struggled, trying to wrest her arm out of the soldier’s grasp, screaming, “Everyone needs to find cover! Everyone is in danger!!”

  
“It’s nothing!” the Altmer snapped, voice booming over the commotion Ildri was making. “Get on with it!” Another roar bounced off the mountains, close enough now to make the ground vibrate.

  
Another Imperial soldier came to help the first drag her to the headsman’s block as she continued to shout, “If you don’t start running now, everyone will die!!”

  
“Just shut up and put your head here,” the second Imperial soldier growled and knocked the back of her knees so she lost her balance and fell to the ground. A hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed it against the block of stone. The first Imperial soldier had backed away, stepping back to join the others, but his help wasn’t needed. Ildri stopped struggling as a massive man wearing an executioner’s hood stepped up to the block, gripping a very large axe. She hoped the blade was sharp.

  
“As we commend your souls to Aetherius,” a priest began what Ildri recognized as final rights. Her voice was drowned out as she continued, words lost as a deafening roar preceded the shadow. It appeared over the mountain, blocking the sun as it glided toward the town. Screams erupted from the onlookers and prisoners alike. The executor seemed deaf to all of this as he lifted the axe above his head. Ildri could not take her eyes from the man, not until the great black dragon landed on the tower behind him, causing a shudder to shake the ground and the executioner to fall.

  
Those red eyes locked with hers, boring into her. “ **Nii los genazaal wah koraav hi het, Dovahkiin. Hi fen ni filok zey ziist tiid** ,” the beast’s voice rumbled, vibrating the stones beneath Ildri’s knees. His following chuckle sounded ominous as he lifted his head and opened his maw. More indecipherable words roared from the dragon’s mouth, the force of them hitting Ildri squarely and knocking her back, head colliding with the cobblestones. Her vision blurred as pain seared through her skull but she noticed the skies turned angry and red and fiery rocks rained down from above. The beast’s wings spread and beat thunderously to lift it airborne.

  
“Lass!” Confusion had Ildri lifting her head back from the ground, flinching when a fiery rock smashed into the cobblestones near her. The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t the brogue she had become accustomed to hearing.

  
“Ildri, come on! If you stay out there like that, those boulders will smash you to pieces!” another voice called, higher pitched than the first. Ildri stumbled to her feet and clumsily moved away from the executioner’s block and toward the pair of voices. Another rock crashed into the ground near her and she staggered away, arms flying up to protect her face from errant debris. She picked up the pace, eyes darting skyward occasionally in order to avoid a painful maiming or death.

  
Somehow, she made it to the tower where Aurelia and Ralof waited for her in the doorway. She barrelled past them and they pulled the door shut behind her. Inside, several Stormcloak soldiers had taken refuge as well as Ulfric himself, whose cool gray eyes studied her critically. The gag was removed from his mouth and his hands -- like those around him -- were unbound. “It seems you were not lying about the dragon,” he stated, voice low and deceptively warm. There was a hard edge underneath the deep warm tones which belied any potential comradery Ildri could feel -- instead filling her with unease in the man’s presence. “It spoke to you. You’ve met it before, haven’t you?” His question sounded more like a demand rather than a curious inquiry.

  
Ildri merely nodded in response as chaos thundered outside, muffled by the stone walls of the tower. Rocks slammed into the buildings and grounds. The dragon roared and its fire scorched the earth. Screams rent the air as townsfolk and soldiers alike ran for their lives.

  
“Could the legends be true?” Ralof called to Ulfric over the cacophony outside.

  
“Legends don’t burn down villages,” the Jarl of Windhelm replied simply before the dragon roared much closer to their location than it had previously. Ulfric’s head snapped up just as the walls of the tower trembled. “We need to move, now!” At the shouted, urgent command, the Stormcloaks jumped to action and moved toward the stairs. Aurelia and Ildri shared a momentary confused glance -- why would they be running up the stairs if they needed to get away? -- before following Ralof up the winding stairs of the tower.

  
Just when the group of soldiers made it to the second floor ahead of them, the tower walls exploded inwards and the black dragon stuck its head inside. It paused for a second before opening its jaws and unleashing a torrent of flames on the soldiers who had not been smashed by the stones on the second floor. Ralof, Aurelia, and Ildri ducked back hoping to put some distance between them and the searing heat.

  
Once the fire and unbearable heat died down and the dragon removed its head from the hole in the stone wall it created, Ralof continued back up the stairs. He paused in front of the stairs and waited for Ildri and Aurelia to join him. Ildri spared one glance at the burned bodies of the Stormcloak soldiers who had been blasted by the dragon’s torrent before quickly averting her gaze. Other bodies in armor as near and dear to her as family rose unbidden in her mind and she had to shake the thoughts away in order to hear what Ralof was telling her and Aurelia to do.

  
“--jump through to the house over there!” Ralof called over the chaotic din outside.

  
Alarm rushed through Ildri as she looked through the hole in the stone wall. “Wait, you want us to _what_?” But by the time those words left her mouth, Aurelia had nodded understanding and leapt through the gaping cavity to the smoldering house below, Ildri’s wrist clutched in her hand. A scream ripped from her mouth as she was yanked from the tower, a jarring pain blaring in her left shoulder, the shoulder connected to the wrist trapped within the Imperial’s strong grip.

  
As the floor of the house came upon them, Aurelia let Ildri’s wrist go. With her hands still bound and her body unbalanced by the force of being pulled into the air, there was no way Ildri was going to make a clean landing. Instead, she curled slightly into a fetal position, hoping to land less on her face and more on her shoulder and use the momentum to roll. Wind rushed from her lungs when she impacted with the wooden planks of the house's second floor, but she still managed to roll through her momentum and kept from damaging her body further.

  
When she came to a stop, she lay on the floor in a daze, gasping. Aurelia did not give her more than the shortest moment to catch her breath before urging her to her feet and dropping to the first floor and making her way to the exit, dragging Ildri along behind her. The chaos outside looked way worse than it had originally sounded, which had been very bad. The dragon landed down the lane the prisoner-loaded wagons had driven in on not even an hour previous and unleashed a torrent of fire on those still on the street. The Imperial soldier who had read names from the list earlier had just dragged a boy out of the way and to safety. As soon as the dragon leapt back into the air, the Imperial soldier turned back to Ildri and Aurelia.

  
“Still alive?” he called over the chaos. “Stick with me if you want to stay that way!” Ildri heard Aurelia scoff at the insinuation that they were a couple of helpless damsels, but Ildri’s hands were still bound while the Imperial’s were somehow free. Technically, the young Nord woman was helpless -- at least against a dragon. Regardless, they followed after the man, running through the chaos and fire, dodging attacks from the dragon as it flew over them several times.

  
Finally, they made it to a stone building that looked like an old fort. Ralof came running up to them, relief evident on his features at seeing Ildri and Aurelia unharmed -- though Ildri’s head felt like someone had stuck a pick axe through it. When he saw who escorted them, a sharp scowl twisted his features.

  
"Ralof, you fucking coward!” the man spat as Ralof approached their group.

  
“You’re the coward, Hadvar, for not standing up for your people! You were about to murder innocents!” Ralof snarled, stepping up to the imperial soldier and putting his face mere inches away from the other man’s.

  
A sharp piercing dragon screech rung through the sky as the black beast swooped over them, head rearing back and preparing to unleash another bout of flames. Ildri’s bound hands tugged on Aurelia, moving toward the fort and ignoring the two men oblivious to the mayhem around them.

  
“Hey!” Aurelia snapped over the two men still arguing. “Will the both of you shut up?! We have more important things to worry about than who’s dick is bigger!” Wasting no more time, Aurelia turned and followed Ildri into the fort, not looking to see if the Nord men followed.

  
The fort was dim inside and it took a moment for Ildri’s eyesight to adjust after the harsh daylight outside. The door slammed shut behind them and the sounds of frenzy outside faded to a dull murmur. After surveying the bare stone room, she turned back to the others, only slightly surprised to see both Hadvar and Ralof standing with arms crossed tightly across their chests and glaring at each other. At least they weren’t actively fighting at the moment.

  
“Ok, now that we’re inside, is there a way we can get out or do we just wait out the dragon in here?” Aurelia asked.

  
Hadvar shook his head slightly as he replied, “No we’re not going to wait out the dragon. There is a back entrance to the fort that empties out on the road to Riverwood. The tunnels are a maze, but I know the way through. It’s our best chance to get out of Helgen alive.”

  
“Hmph, or you’ll lead us right into an Imperial trap,” Ralof groused.

  
Ildri didn’t want to agree with the Stormcloak but at the same time the Imperial Army had almost given her death. Either way, she would feel better about her chances of survival and freedom if her hands were free and she were armed and armored. “Alright, so we’ll follow Hadvar through the fort. Do you know where they put confiscated gear? I need my weapons and armor. I would also love to get out of these binds,” Ildri stated, lifting her hands to eye level to remind everyone of her helpless state.

  
“Right,” Hadvar muttered, drawing his sword and moving toward her. He lifted his free hand palm up and Ildri placed her hands upon his. Carefully, he angled the blade between her wrists and sliced through the ropes. When he was finished, he let her hands go and offered, “I’m sorry with how you were treated. You both were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and you almost died because my fellow soldiers were too eager to take out Jarl Ulfric. We usually don’t sentence innocent people to death.”

  
“No, that was just the Imperial soldiers following the whims and wishes of the Thalmor. That’s what the Empire forced onto its citizens when they signed the White Gold Concordat. It turned the Empire into the Aldmeri Dominion’s dogs,” Ildri bit back, hard gaze locking onto Hadvar’s amber irises.

  
Ralof grunted in agreement, adding, “That’s why the Stormcloaks are fighting the Empire. We will not be made slaves to the elves.”

  
Hadvar rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, what the Stormcloaks are doing is weakening the Empire, making it easier for the Thalmor to hold control over them. If you really wanted to fight the Thalmor, you wouldn’t fight the Empire,” he argued.

  
“Enough!” Aurelia snapped. “I would much prefer we get the fuck out of Helgen before we argue about politics! That damned dragon could bring this building down on us at any time or other, less friendly, soldiers could find us. It’s risky standing here and arguing, so let’s get moving.” Ildri nodded in agreement.

  
“It would be easier to move through the fort if you two weren’t constantly at each other's throats,” Ildri added.

  
Both Hadvar and Ralof looked properly abashed, gazes finding the floor. Finally, Hadvar sighed, sheathed his sword, and lifted his gaze to Ralof, hand extended. “Truce?”

  
Ralof glared at the appendage before growling quietly to himself and shoving his own hand at Hadvar’s, grasping the palm and squeezing the fingers in an unforgiving grip. “Fine, truce, but only until we get to Riverwood.”

  
“Right, I’ll lead you to the armory, then. It’s probably where Lieutenant Antonius put your effects,” Hadvar recommended, voice placating as he attempted to surreptitiously massage his abused hand. Ildri stepped to the side, waving a free arm out to indicate she’d follow after him.

  
It wasn’t a long trek to the armory, but it was twisty and Ildri was glad to have a guide lead their group through the fort. If it had been up to her to find her things in this maze, they would have been lost to her forever. Finally, Hadvar pushed open a door and stood aside for Aurelia and Ildri to enter. Weapons were piled high on a table in the center of the room and at the end sat a very small pile of armor. Ildri approached the armor first and dug through it until she found all her pieces of armor gifted from the Thieves Guild. As she began to strap it on, Aurelia searched through the weapons and found her blades quickly, attaching them back to her belt. Surprisingly, she continued to search through the pile, pulling out a bow and arrows and setting them aside. Ildri noticed they were the hunting bow and arrows she’d purchased from Grelka in Riften. Surprised, Ildri watched Aurelia dive back into the pile of weapons to keep searching. The imperial woman went through each weapon, tossing weapons aside after inspecting them. After she went through each one, she looked over at Ildri – who had finished strapping her armor on – a sad look in her eyes.

  
“Your sword, Ildri… it’s not here,” she stated.

  
At first, the words didn’t even register. She walked over to the pile of weapons as she buckled the last strap on her cuirass, staring at them almost uncomprehendingly. “What… did you say?”

  
“Your sword. The Imperials didn’t put it here with the rest,” Aurelia quietly explained.

  
Jerkily, Ildri nodded as tears gathered in her eyes. Of course, they wouldn’t put it here. They had separated Dragonfang from the rest of the weapons when they first took it. Didn’t one of the soldiers present her sword to General Tullius and the Thalmor agents when they first entered Helgen? If the sword was given to either of them, Ildri may never see it again. A sob tried to force its way out of her chest, tears falling over her lower lid.

  
“Ildri…” Aurelia said, moving to put her hand on Ildri’s shoulder but hesitating at the last second.

  
Ildri cleared her throat, attempting to clear the tears. “That was the last thing my brother gave me… before the Thalmor killed him,” she muttered, pushing to get the words past the lump in her throat.  
“So… you didn’t steal that sword, then?” Ralof asked, tucking a couple axes into his belt. Aurelia turned to glare at the man.

  
“No,” Ildri ground out, jaw clenching around the word. “I told the truth before, when they took it from me. That sword belonged to my family. My brother told me when he gave it to me that it protected our family for generations. Right after he gave it to me, he was killed.”

  
“Is this part of that ‘complicated past’ you have with the Thalmor?” Aurelia asked, gently and Ildri nodded in response. “Well, I think we have time to hear the story now.”

  
So, Ildri began her tale as their little group ventured through the fort. Occasionally, she would have to pause her story as they fought through soldiers -- both Imperial and Stormcloak alike. At first, they had tried to sneak past the battling factions, but were caught and engaged in the fighting. After their first battle, Ildri picked up a standard Imperial sword. She did not like relying only on her bow. If any fighters got too close, she would be defenseless without a blade and the Imperial sword was decent enough steel. Better than the axes the Stormcloaks carried anyway. She didn’t know how Hadvar or Ralof felt about killing their brothers in arms, but they made no complaints, surprisingly. By the time she finished her history, they had made it to a cave with their way back through the fort blocked by the ceiling collapsing. It felt good to finally share all of it, cathartic really. She had been lying to others for so long about her background that telling the truth and being open was freeing.

  
They went on through the cave -- though quieter this time. Finally, the silence was broken when Aurelia said, “Ildri, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  
Ildri bobbed her head and they walked on, turning down another path when the one they were on ended. It was then she realized Aurelia did not have her lute. It must not have been among the items in the armory. “What about your lute?”

  
Aurelia shrugged, “I can always get another.”

  
“You play?” Ralof asked and the imperial woman nodded.

  
“She sings, too,” Ildri added as their path ended at a large cavern.

  
Hadvar spun around, finger to his lips. “Shh,” he hissed quietly then pointed to the other end of the cavern where a big black bear slept. Blood drained from Ildri’s face as the beast moved and huffed but did not actually wake. They crept into the cavern and looked around for an exit, only seeing one. It was at the far end of the cavern. What was worse, they would have to pass the bear. “Ok,” Hadvar whispered, “we have two options. We can try to sneak by the bear or we can try to kill it.”

  
“Yeah, because sneaking worked so well in the fort,” Aurelia whispered back, eyes rolling. Ildri nodded in agreement, mouth set in a grim frown. Slowly, she reached back and removed her bow from her shoulder, knocking an arrow. Taking a breath, she aimed at the bear snoozing across the cavern. “Ildri, make sure this is the route you want to take before releasing that arrow,” the imperial woman warned. Ildri did not acknowledge her and released her breath with her arrow. The arrow was embedded in the bear’s side, sinking between ribs. It woke with a great roar, moving to stand and look around. Quickly, Ildri knocked another arrow and heard both Ralof and Hadvar pulling their own bows out. Ildri’s arrow flew and was shortly followed by two more arrows, each finding their mark in different parts of the bear.

  
The bear finally caught sight of them and charged. Aurelia lept from their hiding spot, daggers in both her hands, and ran at the bear. She leapt over it in a graceful movement, dodging a powerful swipe of the bear’s claws, and stabbed her blades into the bear’s back, dragging them through the hide as she passed over it. With that, the bear fell and Ildri approached it. As a hunter and a smith, she could not let such a fine pelt go to waste.

  
“How about next time you give us a little more warning?” Ralof called, jogging over to the bear where Aurelia was cleaning her blades and Ildri was removing the dead bear’s pelt.

  
“Aurelia was right. You two are dreadful at sneaking, your footsteps are too loud and your armor makes too much noise. Would you have rather tried sneaking and risk waking up the bear much closer or attacking from a distance?” Ildri asked.

  
“Good point,” Ralof answered as he stooped to collect their arrows from the bear.

  
Once she was finished, the group made their way to the exit that promised sunlight and fresh air. They stepped out of the cavern and Ildri took a big gulp of fresh air. After fighting her way through the Pale Pass for two weeks, she hated caves.

  
However, almost as soon as they set foot outside, they had to dive behind rocks for cover as a black shadow passed over them. Looking up, Ildri spied the big black dragon gliding overhead, roaring in triumph as it sailed over a ridge in the distance and disappeared behind it.

  
“It’s headed toward Whiterun,” Hadvar stated, lips downturned in a worried frown. He looked at the others, concern mixed with fear in his amber irises. “We need to warn them, tell the Jarl so he can prepare his soldiers.”

  
Ildri stood, staring at the mountains the dragon disappeared behind. There were protrusions between two peaks that made the ridge look like it’s ribs were exposed. “I was headed to Whiterun before all this nonsense started, I can warn them,” she replied before lifting her finger and indicating the strange silhouette in the mountain. “What’s that?”

  
Hadvar and Ralof followed her pointed finger and Ralof answered, “That’s Bleak Falls Barrow. It’s an old Dragon Cult temple or something. I grew up under the shadow of that thing, always freaked me out.”

  
“It’s always got some kind of bandit or brigand group living up there,” Hadvar added, standing and moving a couple paces down the path toward the road. “Well, we have a few hours of daylight left and it will take about that long to get Riverwood.”

  
“So let’s not waste it,” Aurelia stated, moving to follow Hadvar down the road.

  
The sun was low in the sky when they finally entered the small town of Riverwood. Their journey to the town after leaving the cave and hiding from the dragon had been blessedly uneventful, which was exactly what Ildri needed after the events of the day. She was exhausted and needed the peaceful walk through the woods, comforted by the birdsong and other sounds of the forest. Hadvar had described the route to Whiterun after Riverwood during their walk. Apparently, it was only a few hours further down the road and to just follow the river. As they walked through the gates, Hadvar and Ralof split off from their group, wishing Ildri and Aurelia farewell and requesting they not to be strangers.

  
Aurelia turned to Ildri, eyes assessing as she asked, “On to Whiterun then?”

  
Ildri offered her hand in front of her, leading down the road to the opposite end of town. “Lead on,” she said.

  
“Good, I’d like to get this over with and spend the night in a larger town. It’s only a couple more hours from here from what Hadvar told us. You sure you aren’t too tired?” the imperial woman commented as they set off down the road, passing a blacksmith where Hadvar had disappeared through the door.

  
“I am tired but, like you, I want to get this over with,” Ildri replied. Once they passed the blacksmith, the road ran parallel to the river. An island broke the river in two, a lumber mill on one side. Near the mill, Ildri could see Ralof hugging a woman with blond hair the same shade as his. Ildri smiled, glad to know both the soldiers that helped them get through Helgen had reunited with who she assumed was family. Warmth spread through Ildri’s chest at the sight, glad she was able to reunite those families.

  
“You coming?” Aurelia called over her shoulder. Ildri, snapping out of her thoughts at being addressed, nodded and jogged to catch up, ready to get to Whiterun and warn them of what was coming.

Dovahzul Translation:  
 **Nii los genazaal wah koraav hi het, Dovahkiin. Hi fen ni filok zey ziist tiid** : It is pleasant (fortuitous) to see you here, Dragonborn. You will not escape me a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> So, I have fully caught up to where I am writing and I will do my best to keep these chapters coming out every week. I do want to warn you, that may not happen.  
> Anyway, don't forget to leave kudos and a comment (please, feedback really helps me know that I'm doing well or not!) and bookmark this story if you want to keep up with the updates!


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